If It Kills Me
by tinkerbelle27
Summary: Maureen is dating Mark, but Roger is one of the most enticing men she's ever met and she doesn't know what to do, especially considering she doesn't know if he hates her or loves her. Mark/Maureen, Maureen/Roger. Pre-RENT. T for language and mature themes
1. Chapter 1

**Oh hi. God it's been ages since I've written something and posted it online. I've never written for Rent before, so please bear with me. I wrote this because there's a serious lack of Maureen/Roger out there, plus I'm extremely bored. Obviously, everything belongs to Jonathon Larson, though I wouldn't kick Roger out of my bed! Let me know if I should bother continuing this. Thank you and happy reading!**

Maureen Johnson has always preyed on weaker men. Call it insecurity or chicken salad, it doesn't really matter, that's just the way she is. Typically, she prefers her men to be attractive, but not more attractive than she so when she set her ambitions on Mark Cohen, everyone, including herself, was surprised. It's not that he's unattractive…he's just not Johnny Depp.

_Sorry Johnny…_Maureen thought to herself as she and Mark made their way through the tent city leading to Mark's apartment. Maureen could tell Mark was freaking out about what she thought of his living arrangements, but things like that don't bother her. She came from a well to do family where everything in their apartment was beautiful; so beautiful, but so cold. So picking her way through a bit of garbage hardly bothered her.

"I'm warning you now, we probably don't have electricity…meaning we probably don't have heat." Mark sighed.

"We?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh didn't I tell you? I kinda sorta have roommates…"

"Boys or girls?" Maureen asked casually.

"B-boys of course!" He hastened to assure her.

Maureen smiled in relief, "That's fine Pookie, I'm sure we'll be the best of friends."

"Uh I wouldn't count on that Maureen. Roger's…difficult…to say the least."

"If I were named Roger, I'd be a little difficult too." Maureen giggled.

Mark choked out a laugh, "Don't tell him that. There's also Collins, but he's rarely there cause he teaches and I think he'll be moving onto better things soon. Oh and there's Benny. He preys off of rich girls and usually stays with them until they realize he's using them and he comes crawling back to us."

"Lovely, they sound like…characters, to say the least." She prayed that this Benny never found out about her family; the last thing she needed was a gold digger. "So where is this place anyway?"

"We're almost there. Why? Are you tired? Do you want to stop for a minute?"

Maureen kept herself from rolling her eyes, "Oh honestly Mark, we're not in the 17th century, I'm not some dainty girl in a corset, I was just curious."

"Right, sorry." Mark took her hand.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, "Though I'm not opposed to corsets, I'd just rather wear them at night when I'm writhing on a bed, not walking down a dirty street." Maureen got a little too much satisfaction out of the blush on Mark's face.

"So uh here it is." Mark had stopped them in front of a crumbling building, still blushing, "Ready to go in?"

"Beyond ready, Pookie, let's go." She charged into the building as if she actually knew where to go.

"Our elevators broken, we'll have to walk." Mark added apologetically.

"A little exercise won't kill me. Gives me an excuse to eat chocolate later." She winked then began the long ascent to meet these dreaded roommates.

Meanwhile in the flat, Roger was lying on the couch with his Fender balanced precariously on his stomach. Mark was supposedly coming over with his new girlfriend. He, Collins and Benny had all been convinced Mark was making her up, but apparently she existed. It sucked that the other 2 wouldn't be there to meet…_What's her name again?...Mallory? No that's not right…something that begins with an M…Oh whatever, I'm sure Mark will repeat her name 10,000 times once they get here._

Roger strummed his guitar, analyzing the mold that was steadily spreading across their ceiling. A few years ago, this may have disgusted him, but after awhile you lose your sense of what is nauseating and what is not. If anything, it gave him another excuse to not invite his mother to visit him. Roger could hear footsteps on the stairs and new that he should probably try to make himself and the flat more presentable, but that would involve an effort he didn't feel like expending.

Mark used his key (technically, you could get into the apartment regardless of whether you had the key or not, but he didn't want Maureen to know this) and shoved the heavy door open. "Um, after you." He gestured gallantly to Maureen.

Maureen smiled graciously at him and stepped inside the dingy flat. Once her eyes had adjusted a bit, she could make out a couch, a few tables and trash _everywhere._ There were band posters on the wall and bits of what seemed to be lyrics strewn across the floor.

Mark inwardly groaned; he'd begged Roger to clean the place up before leaving this morning, "I-I'm so sorry about the mess. I asked Roger to fix it up, but well…" He trailed off miserably.

Roger grinned when he heard this, "I did clean up, Mark. You can actually sit on the couch now."

Maureen, who had been examining one of the band posters, jumped and let out a small shriek when she heard a new voice in the room. She could hear a raspy chuckling and felt herself blush; now Maureen was _pissed_. She rarely lost her cool and she never blushed!

"Roger, you're such a prick sometimes, honestly." Mark was glaring at the couch.

Maureen turned around as Roger sat up and adjusted his guitar. Mark cleared his throat pointedly. Roger glanced at him then sighed and stood up, gently setting his Fender aside.

"I'm Roger." He offered a calloused hand. Mark cleared his throat again. "Whaaaat?" Roger whined. Mark cocked an eyebrow. "Oh…Sorry for making you shriek like a girl."

Maureen stared at his hand then took it, "Maureen and considering I am a girl, I think my shriek was spot on."

A surprised grin flashed across Roger's face, _so Maureen (I knew it began with an M!) has a sense of humor. And really soft hands._ He released said soft hands then stretched his arms over his head and wandered away.

Mark was blushing again, "I'm so-"

Maureen pressed a slender finger to his lips, "Stop apologizing." She raised her voice slightly, "He's nothing I can't handle."

In their tiny kitchen, Roger froze then smirked, _Keep thinking that little girl, keep thinking that._

Roger did his best to ignore Mark attempting to flirt with his smoking hot girlfriend. He had to admit to himself that if she weren't his best friend's girl, he'd definitely get in on that, but because of this and also because he could just tell she wouldn't last one week trying to be a part of this lifestyle, he dropped it.

_Maureen's so out of Mark's lead_ he mused. Mark was like his brother, but he couldn't quite see why Maureen was wasting her time with him…It was clear from her expressions that at times Mark was boring her beyond belief and he could already tell the difference between a genuine laugh and a pity giggle, but whatever, not his problem.

A few hours later, Roger gave up on trying to hang out at his apartment and grabbed his coat and guitar, "I'm going to get ready for the show tonight, later."

"Wait, when are you coming back, Rog?" Mark called.

"Does it matter?" Roger sighed impatiently, his hand on the door knob, "If I play my cards right, the band will get to play an extra set and then I can find a groupie to play with, if you know what I mean."

Maureen rolled her eyes in disgust, _Typical musician._

"Alright…" Mark still looked uncertain.

Roger threw him a disgruntled look, "Quit it, Mom, I'll be back whenever." Then he stalked out of the apartment.

"Well, he's charming." Maureen commented.

"Yeah…" Mark agreed distractedly.

Maureen pouted, "Come on, Pookie, what are you worried about?"

Mark ignored her, still staring at the door.

Maureen sighed and slid into Mark's lap, turning his face away from the door and kissing him seductively, "Forget about him," she murmured against his lips, "I'm here, you can do things to me if you want."

Mark blushed again then kissed her back, as always, letting her take the lead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay so in the last chapter I made a few grammatical errors for which I apologize; normally I don't make mistakes and I'm quite annoyed with myself. So yeah, here's the next chapter, again I don't own RENT and reviews are always appreciated =0) **

"I'm telling you man, I don't get them at all." Roger said over his mug of coffee, listening to the rhythmic thumps and cries coming from Mark's room, "It's weird enough for Mark to have a girlfriend, but to get a girl like her boggles my mind."

"Maybe you're only saying that cause you wish you could be in his shoes…or at least in her pants." Collins smirked wickedly.

"Are you kidding me? She's a nightmare! She's loud and obnoxious and-"

Just then a long keen came from behind closed doors.

"Apparently a freak in the bed." Collins finished.

"Please, this is Mark. Any sex for him is great sex." Roger shook his head, gulping his coffee.

"How long has this been going on again?"

"Their rendezvous'? I'm not sure."

"No, their relationship." Collins rolled his eyes.

"Oh…almost 3 months I guess. I think that's a record for Mark."

"Maybe you should try being happy for him instead of sulking." Collins suggested.

"Whatever, dude." Roger put his empty mug in the sink and sat down on the couch.

The door opened and Maureen came padding out, hair tousled, lips swollen, wearing Mark's shirt, "Morning." She called cheerily.

"Morning." Collins stepped aside so she could get to the coffee, "Sleep well?"

"You could say that." She winked then went back into Mark's room and shut the door.

"Gross." Roger shuddered.

"Hot." Collins corrected.

"Shut up, you're gay."

"Gay, not dead." Collins glanced at the clock, which was broken. "I'm going to assume I'm late for work and leave you to your angsting. Later."

"That's not a real word, Professor!" Roger called as the door shut.

This time Mark stepped out of his room, "Morning." He mumbled.

Roger grunted.

Mark grinned in satisfaction then went into the bathroom to shower.

Maureen came out again, this time dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. She sat on the other side of the couch and pulled her knees to her chest, "So how's things?" She asked sweetly.

"Peachy. How are things down under?"

Maureen smirked, "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Actually I wouldn't, but I thought I'd ask you something relevant."

"I guess we were a little loud." Maureen admitted happily. Roger chose not to reply so Maureen shrugged and stretched, her sweatshirt lifting up to reveal a few inches of flat stomach.

Roger glanced at her stomach then looked away quickly and got off the couch, trying to find something to do. He could feel Maureen's green eyes following him as he paced.

"How'd your show go last night?" Maureen tried again to make conversation.

"Good, we actually got paid. It was quite the shocker."

"So does this mean you'll pay rent and we can have hot water again?"

"We? You don't even live here!" Roger glared at her.

"Oh honestly, you have a horrible temper." Though she was clearly enjoying bothering him.

He ignored her again.

"Mark asked me to move in." She dropped this bomb casually.

"He WHAT?" Roger stopped dead, "He can't do that unless he consults me, Collins and Benny."

"Collins barely spends half his time here and I've met Benny once." Maureen shuddered at that memory. Benny took one look at her and almost like gay-dar, guessed that she was rich. She was quite thankful that he lived elsewhere because he gave her the creeps, not that she'd ever admit it.

"Fine, but he didn't even talk to me about it."

"You're acting like a child, Roger." Maureen chastised, "Am I really that bad?"

"Yes, you bring too much estrogen in here! I can't hear myself think!"

"Estrogen does not affect your brain!" Maureen argued, "If you were a girl it'd affect your period though."

"Ew, ew, ew, this is why you can't live here!" Roger groaned, covering his ears.

"Oh please, if you can stick your disco stick inside someone, you can hear the word 'period.'"

"Lalalalala" Roger rocked back and forth.

Mark came out of the shower and sighed, watching Roger, "I was in there for 10 minutes at the most and you reduced him to a child, thanks a lot Maureen."

"Not my problem." She examined her fingernails, "He's just not taking the news of our new living arrangement well."

"Yeah Marky, thanks for the heads up." Roger snapped, lowering his hands and glaring.

"I was gonna tell you last night, but you weren't home then Maureen came over and…" He trailed off.

"Whatever dude, have fun telling Collins and Benny." Roger stood up, "I'm not doing it for you."

Maureen grinned triumphantly, "Don't worry, Rogy, I promise I'll behave." She winked at him.

"You best or else your skinny ass is on the street."

"Roger!" Mark half-yelled as the musician disappeared into his room.

"It's okay, Pookie, give him time to adjust." Maureen soothed, crossing the room to the blonde and running a finger down his pale, pale chest.

Mark shuddered, "I, um, I have to go to work…" He mumbled.

"Take a sick day." She suggested, pressing herself against him.

"He can't." Roger yelled from his room, "We need the money, princess, so unless you start working to pay the rent, you better control your estrogen and let his sex drive recharge."

Maureen pondered his rationale, "Billy Joel has a point. I'll see you after work." She kissed his nose then lightly shoved him away so he could get ready.

"I'll be back tonight and we can have dinner and relax." Mark said over his shoulder while wrapping his scarf around his neck, "What are you going to do today?"

Maureen shrugged and stretched like a cat, "Probably just hang out, annoy Roger, the usual."

"Maureen." Mark sighed, "Please, can't you and Roger get along?"

"We do get along, Pookie! Just go, it's fine." She assured him.

"Alright…" Mark tried to find another excuse to stall, but failed, kissed Maureen on the forehead and left.

Roger sat on the edge of his bed, carefully picking his way through an old song. He did this sometimes when he needed new inspiration. Unfortunately for him, inspiration refused to come so he cursed and went back into their "living room."

Maureen was curled up at one end of the couch, reading a book. She was biting her lip, though Roger doubted she realized it. Roger sat down on the couch, glancing at her to see if she noticed or even cared; when she didn't look up, he relaxed against the pillows and contemplated the mold again.

**I'd love a review, but I suppose I can't be picky. Thanks for reading, I'll update soon! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh hey! I don't own RENT, this is written purely for my entertainment, and if it happens to entertain other people then I see that as a lovely bonus. Enjoy! **

Mark has grown used to Roger and his moodiness. He's so used to it in fact that sometimes he forgets that other people have to deal with him, too. All things considered, he doesn't think Roger and Maureen have had too many problems. There have been no physical altercations or real arguments; just the typical banter between two dramatic people.

It came as no surprise to Mark to come home after a long day of filming only to hear the usual rise and fall of Maureen and Roger's voices as they bicker about this or that.

"_Aliens_ was a horrible movie!" Maureen exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation, "_Aliens_ was the sequel to _Alien_! At least _Alien_ had Tom Skerrit in it. _Aliens_ didn't have anything redeeming about it!"

"_Aliens_ was one of the best sci-fi movies ever made!" Roger argued back, watching her pace in front of him.

"That's an oxymoron; there is no such thing as a good sci-fi movie."

"Oh really, Princess?" Roger grinned wickedly, "Fine, name a good movie."

Mark sighed, as always his presence went unnoticed to them; this wasn't uncommon, whenever they really got into it, they lost all sense of perception. He threw his scarf onto the table and set his camera down then popped open a beer and waited for them to acknowledge him.

Meanwhile, Maureen had stopped pacing and was thinking carefully, absently twirling a dark curl around her finger. "_Tootsie."_ She determined.

"Seriously? _Tootsie?_ That's the best you could do?"

"It's a great movie embracing tons of controversial ideas in today's society!"

"It was an excuse for Dustin Hoffman to dress in drag. He basically played himself wearing a dress."

"You're just close minded, Roger Davis." Maureen pointed a finger at him, "It's no wonder you have no friends."

"I have friends!" Roger argued, "Hello, I live with 3 people."

"You're calling _me_ you're friend?" Maureen snorted.

"Hell no. You wish, babe. I was referring to Mark, Collins and Benny."

Maureen opened her mouth to say God only knows what, but Mark cleared his throat and cut her off before she could get going again.

"Hi Pookie!" Maureen squealed, skipping over to him and throwing her arms around his neck.

Behind her back, Roger stood up and began prancing in circles, pretending to swirl his hair and batting his eyelashes dramatically. Most unfortunately for Rog, Collins chose that moment to come home for the first time in a week. "And they call me gay." He grinned.

"You have impeccable timing." Mark laughed as Maureen released him.

Roger sighed dramatically and fell back against the couch, "I can't win."

Maureen pouted over at him, "Poor Rogy." She turned to Collins, "What's the best 80's movie of all time?"

"_The Shining,_ obviously."

Maureen shuddered, "Good God, I'd rather watch _Aliens_ than that."

"Girl, what's wrong with _The Shining?_ It's a classic!" Collins looked insulted.

"I just don't like it. It's creepy and weird!" Maureen shook her head, "Couldn't you have picked a happy movie?"

"You asked for the best movie, not the happiest!"

"Fine. Collins, what's the happiest 80's movie?"

"_E.T."_

Roger stared at him incredulously, "_E.T._? Really?"

"Yeah dude, it's a good, wholesome family movie!" Collins nodded earnestly.

"It's better than _The Shining."_ Maureen added, "How about you, Pookie? What do you think is the best 80's movie?"

"_Raiders of the Lost Ark._ Though you do realize the 80's aren't over and there could be a lot of good movies yet to come, right? Oh and _Alien_ was made in 1979."

"Oh Marky, don't be a kill joy." Maureen shoved him lightly, "It's all just for fun. And the year _Alien_ was made is a moot point."

"I thought we were arguing about 80's movies." Roger called to her.

"Shut up, Davis, no one asked you."

"If we had functional cable, we could watch these movies and make a final conclusion." Collins mused, "Alas, we are not privileged like that. Let's find something uncivilized to do."

"What do you mean by 'uncivilized?'" Mark asked skeptically, "The last time we did something 'uncivilized,' you and Roger got drunk and set fireworks off from our balcony."

"Yeah and it was tons of fun!" Collins winked at Maureen, "Though I don't recommend doing it more than once. Roger didn't have eyebrows for months cause he leaned too close to the flames."

"That sounds sexy." Maureen grinned at Roger, brushing against his shoulder as she went over to the window.

"Besides, you can't do something more than once. It takes out the excitement." Roger rationalized, ignoring the smell of Maureen's shampoo as it engulfed him.

"Makes sense." Maureen nodded thoughtfully, "But whatever shall we do?" She glanced around, "We're seriously lacking in supplies for mischief."

"Ah, but that, my love, is where you're wrong." Collins waggled a finger at her. He rummaged around in the kitchen and produced a bottle of Stoli, "First things first, we need to get buzzed."

"You don't have to if you don't want to, Maureen." Mark assured her.

"Mark, please, I've gotten drunk before." She rolled her eyes, "Chill out. So what comes after the buzz?"

"That's not determined until after the alcohol is consumed." Roger pulled out a few plastic cups and passed them around while Collins poured generous amounts.

"This is quite the process." Maureen smirked then took a long drag from her cup.

"We've got it down to a science. You're less likely to care about your actions when you're drunk." Roger tipped his cup all the way back and sighed happily, "Gotta love some quality Stoli."

Collins forced a cup into Mark's hand and made him drain it so he could catch up with the others. "Okay now that we've got something in us, let's think."

"I thought you didn't do anything till you're drunk or is that all it takes for you?" Maureen teased.

"Well you have to be coherent enough to think. See, you have to come up with the plan then drink enough to make the plan happen." Roger poured her another cup.

"We've been doing this for years." Mark took the bottle from Roger and added a bit more to his cup, "It's what happens when you're low on cash and need something to do."

"So what's the standard for this sort of operation?" Maureen cocked an eyebrow, sitting on the table they were crowded around, "Like what do you usually do."

Roger and Collins smiled wickedly at each other, "Terrorize Mark." They said in unison.

"Remember when we rearranged the furniture while Mark was sleeping?" Roger began laughing.

"Oh yeah! Then he woke up and tried to put the flat back together, but every time he'd turn around, we'd move something else." Collins cracked up.

"And we got the whole thing on camera. 2 hours of Mark running around the apartment trying to keep everything in order!" Roger grinned triumphantly.

Maureen had a hand clamped over her mouth, trying to hold in her laughter for Mark's sake.

"Ooh how about the time we-" Collins began.

"Let's talk about something else!" Mark suggested, glaring at the two giggling, slightly drunk men.

"Pookie, you're no fun." Roger pouted, doing an extremely accurate imitation of Maureen.

"We still have no plan." Maureen pointed out.

"Oh yeah…" Collins was rolling the now empty bottle around on the table, "We could play spin the bottle." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Um no." Mark shook his head.

"Yeah, no way man." Roger shuddered, "There's no way I'm letting my lips go near any of yours."

"Close minded as always, Rogy." Maureen teased.

"Oh here we go again." Roger rolled his eyes, picking up his guitar then sitting down across from Maureen on the table.

"I'm hungry." Collins sighed.

"Get food." Roger suggested.

"Good idea Blondie. One problem: we don't have any." Collins rolled his eyes.

"There has to be food somewhere over there." Maureen gestured in the general area of the kitchen.

"I doubt it." Roger shrugged, "You'll live, you've got plenty of extra stuffing."

"I'll give you some extra stuffing…" Collins muttered, wandering through the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets haphazardly, "I'll give you so much stuffing you'll have the turkey fairy try to take you to the big Thanksgiving table in the sky…"

Maureen looked questioningly at Roger who just shrugged as if to say _He's drunk, whatever._

"I thought we had some saltines…somewhere…" Maureen tried to be helpful.

"Girl, I need more than saltines to keep me going!" Collins exclaimed.

Maureen raised her hands in surrender, "Jeez, just go buy food then!

"That…is a fucking great idea!" Collins grabbed her and planted a sloppy kiss on her forehead, "I'm outta here!" He tottered out of the flat.

"Oh great Maureen, you've set him loose." Roger muttered.

"Maybe someone will find him and give him a good home." She giggled.

Roger tried to stay mad at her, but he had to admit, what she'd said was pretty funny so instead he shook his head and smiled. They sat in silence for a bit, which was fine with Roger.

"Where the hell did Mark go?" Maureen looked around.

_Silence never lasts long…_"Couch." Roger muttered, jerking his head in that direction.

Maureen stood up, swaying slightly and saw Mark asleep on the couch with a pillow clutched to his chest, "God you guys are lame. You can't even stay drunk for long!"

"Well normally we actually come up with a plan and that keeps us going longer, but since we were just standing around Mark must've gotten bored." Roger plucked at the strings, growing frustrated.

"If you glare any harder at that thing, you'll burn a hole in it." Maureen commented, watching him carefully.

"It's not doing what I want it to do." He grumbled.

"And what would that be? Dress in drag and do the hula?" She joked.

Roger's mouth twitched, "You think you're really funny, don't you?" He didn't look up from his guitar as he said this.

"Oh darling, I know I'm funny." She giggled, "It's not my fault if other people don't appreciate my humor."

Roger began playing a familiar tune, "Oh! Darling, please believe me, I'll never do you no harm. Believe me when I tell you I'll never do you no harm…" He sang softly.

Maureen smiled, swaying to the familiar tune (_or is it the alcohol?_ She thought).

"Oh! Darling, if you leave me I'll never make it alone. Believe me when I beg you don't ever leave me alone…" He continued, still strumming along.

Maureen struggled to remember the lyrics, "When you told me you didn't need me anymore, well you know I nearly broke down and cried…" She trailed off, forgetting the words.

"When you told me you didn't need me anymore, well you know I nearly fell down and died," Roger prompted.

Maureen smiled, "Oh! Darling, if you leave me I'll never make it alone." Roger joined her for the last line: "Believe me when I tell you I'll never do you no harm…"

Roger stared at her dazedly for a moment, "You have a beautiful voice." He murmured huskily.

Maureen flushed, "I haven't sung in front of someone in years."

"Well that's stupid. If you can sing then you should sing. There are a shit ton of people out there who try to sing even though they suck." Roger was clearly about to go into a rant so Maureen leaned across the table and pressed a finger to his lips.

"Shh…you have to do something about your temper, Rog." She whispered.

"Why?" He muttered, his lips moving against her finger, "Does it matter?"

"Well…going back to earlier…allow me to quote another great 80's movie: 'You're dangerous.'" She tried to keep a straight face and failed.

"Did you really just quote _Top Gun_ to me?" He snorted, "What the hell? Do you have a thing for Tom Skerrit or something?"

"Oh what you have a problem with that movie, too? And what's wrong with liking Tom?"

_Here we go again…_ Roger thought to himself before he launched back in for yet another fight with Maureen.

**Clearly, I do not own the song 'Oh Darling.' I wasn't going to post this yet because I don't want to rush the story, but I'm done with school (seniors 2010!) and have nothing better to do so here we go! I'm not sure where I'm going with this, but I'll figure it out. Thank you for my review, it made my day =0) **


	4. Chapter 4

** Okay so I posted this then realized I didn't put the disclaimer in so: Obviously, I own nothing. Enjoy! **

Maureen woke up in Mark's bed feeling rather queasy. She sat up as last night came rushing back to her. Getting drunk, singing with Roger, playing guitar (more like failing guitar) and…kissing Roger? _Did I kiss him?_ Maureen thought, horrified. She pressed her fingers to her lips as if they could tell her what she did or didn't do.

The raven haired girl threw the covers off and clambered off the bed, stumbling out into the living room. Mark was lying on the couch with a pillow over his face and Roger was nowhere in sight. Maureen sighed in relief and went over to the couch, lifting Mark's legs so she could sit down, "Hi Pookie."

Mark grunted in response.

"Headache?" She asked sympathetically, rubbing his ankle.

Mark grunted again.

"Do you want me to get you something?"

"Roger's getting stuff." Mark mumbled, finally pulling the pillow off his face.

"Well that was nice of him." Maureen said stiffly.

"I think he was tired of listening to me groan." Mark rubbed his temples, "He left an hour ago so he probably took off and has no intention of bringing me Advil."

"Are you really surprised about that?" Maureen smiled, "He is a little selfish."

"Nah, he's not selfish." Mark defended, "He's just…Roger."

Roger kicked the door of the flat open, his arms laden with bags, "What am I?"

"Greater men have questioned that about themselves and never found the answer." Maureen replied, not looking at him.

"So you decided to join the living, eh?" Roger put the bags down on the table and began pulling stuff out of it. Advil, instant coffee, soda crackers, bottled water, Chips Ahoy cookies, strawberry pop tarts, bananas, and condoms.

"Well, that's an interesting array." Maureen said drily.

"Always be prepared." Roger winked at her.

Maureen blushed then cursed herself for doing so. Meanwhile, Mark sat up and took the water and Advil Roger offered him, "Thanks man." He said gratefully.

"Next time you decide to bitch about me, you should look back on this moment and take into consideration the sacrifice I have made."

"Sacrifice?" Maureen raised her eyebrows, "You bought some random ass groceries! How the hell is that a sacrifice?"

"Well I could've spent the money on something good; like alcohol or a pretty girl. But instead I spent my hard earned money on supplies for dear old Marky."

"Spare us the speech, Roger." Maureen rolled her eyes, "Mark does stuff for you all the time."

"Excuse me, Princess, I don't believe you've contributed anything to our apartment here. I do believe that Mark does everything for you."

Maureen glared at him, "Excuse _me_, Billy Joel, I pay my share of everything so quit judging me."

"Take your own advice, babe. I'm not the only one making judgments." Roger had crossed the room so he was in front of the couch.

"Guys, guys, shut up! Both of you, please!" Mark had his hands over his ears, "Just fucking stop for a minute, you're both acting like children!"

Roger and Maureen jumped; they both had forgotten Mark was there.

"Just…call a truce or something. At least until my head stops pounding." Mark begged.

Roger sighed and ran a hand through his short hair, "Fine."

"Fine." Maureen echoed, crossing her arms.

Roger held out a hand to her, "Truce?"

Maureen stared at his hand then took it, "Truce." She agreed, dropping his hand quickly.

"Thank you." Mark said in relief, laying back and pulling the pillow over his face.

Maureen stood up, trying not to jostle Mark too much. She went over to the table, but paused, "May I have a pop tart?" she asked formally, feeling foolish.

"Who do you think I bought them for?" Roger smirked, tossing her the box, "Strawberry pop tarts are disgusting."

"They are not!" Maureen ripped open the foil on one and broke a piece off, "They're delicious."

"The s'more ones are the best."

"Yeah, for dessert. At least these have fruit." Maureen leaned against the table.

"Fake fruit!" Roger rolled his eyes, "That shit isn't real."

"Better than chocolate."

Roger gasped dramatically, "I thought there wasn't anything in the world better than chocolate!"

Maureen fought a smile off her face, "That's different, chocolate isn't for breakfast."

"You've clearly never had Cocoa Puffs." Roger shook his head, "You're deprived of a childhood staple."

"I've made it this far, I think I'll live." She rolled her eyes.

Roger followed her with his eyes as she walked around the table twice then grabbed him by the collar and hauled him into the bathroom with her, "What the fuck, Maureen?"

Maureen closed the door behind them, "Jesus Roger, keep your voice down!" She hissed, "I think Mark's asleep."

"What the hell are you doing, you mad woman!" Roger tried to push past her.

"Stop Roger," she struggled to keep him in the room, "I need to talk to you."

"In the bathroom?" He finally stopped moving so she could talk.

"This is very important." She said, her face serious.

"Okay." Roger replied, his face also very serious.

Maureen opened her mouth to speak, but started giggling.

"I thought this was serious!" Roger threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Maureen clapped a hand over his mouth, "You're so freaking loud!"

Roger licked her hand and she squealed, leaping away from him, "Oh my fucking God, you're so gross!" She ran her hand under the freezing water.

"You so asked for that." Roger snickered, clearly quite pleased with himself.

Maureen spiked her fingers through her hair in frustration, "Okay really, this is serious."

"You said that last time then you started laughing, you know this is why women are only good for sex. They say one thing, but they mean something else." Roger ranted.

"Oh my god, just shut up and listen." Maureen pinned him to the wall (she was impressed with herself, he had a good 6 inches on her).

"I'm listening." He looked down at her, his eyes locked on hers.

"Did we-" Maureen shook her head and looked down, "Did you…did we kiss last night?"

"Did we what?" Roger stared at her incredulously.

"You heard me, Roger." Maureen replied, her voice low, "Did we?"

"Jesus, Maureen, no." Roger snorted, "Why would I ever kiss you?"

For some reason, Maureen didn't feel relief, but she stepped back anyway, "Just checking."

"Did you have some sick, drunken fantasy about me or something?" Roger grinned wickedly.

"No! God, can we just forget about this!"

"I don't know, Maureen, this is pretty big. If Marky finds out about your fantasy, we'll both be in trouble…"

"He can't find out, Roger. And he won't because it didn't happen." Maureen said firmly, "Nothing happened."

"Yup, nothing happened." Roger nodded, "Can we get out of here now?"

"Right…yeah." Maureen opened the door and fled.

Roger heard Mark ask Maureen what was going on.

"Oh, it was nothing, Pookie. I needed help with the sink."

Roger snorted at the lame excuse, but Mark seemed to buy it so he supposed it didn't matter.

Later that night, long after Maureen and Mark had had their nightly "workout session," Roger sat freezing his ass off on the balcony. If he still smoked (he'd quit once he realized it was ruining his voice), he'd be lighting up right now, but because he did not, he chose to drink a few beers instead. He had a dramatic flash back to last night.

"Why don't you sing in front of anyone?" Roger asked. He and Maureen were so close to each other; their thighs were touching.

"I never really thought I was any good," He felt her shrug.

"You're a fool to let your insecurities get in your way."

"Gee thanks, Rog, girls just love to be called fools."

"It's the highest compliment I can bestow upon you." Roger grinned at her.

"You have such a way with women," Maureen giggled, "I don't understand why they aren't puddy in your hands."

"You can't make love to puddy, believe me, I've tried."

"Is everything about sex with you?"

"I'm going to hope that was rhetorical."

"Have you ever actually made love to someone?" Maureen swung her legs up so she was facing him with her legs "Indian style."

"God, I lost my virginity when I was like 15."

"That's not what I meant. There's a difference between making love and having sex." She leaned forward, "Sex is just an orgasm. Love is…well I'm guessing it's like the world stops moving and you can't breathe because you're feeling so much at once."

"So I take it you've never made love to someone?" Roger wasn't surprised; he knew that despite what Mark believed, Maureen didn't love him the way he wanted her to.

"I don't think so." She sighed.

"I think you'd know if you had." Roger reasoned.

Maureen bit her lip, "Sometimes I don't think I ever will."

"Don't." Roger reached over and brushed a hand across her mouth, "You'll ruin your lips if you keep doing that."

"And here I was thinking you were going to tell me to not doubt my future love life."

"I'd focus more on your lips then on your impending love."

"Why?" Maureen laughed, "They're just lips."

"Lips are very important. You need them to sing and to talk and to laugh,"

"And to kiss," She murmured, pulling him closer and closer until…

Roger came back to the present day. Yes, he and Maureen had kissed last night. And it had felt amazing; her lips were soft and despite the alcohol, she tasted like mocha…which was strange…maybe he'd imagined that in his drunken state.

Regardless, Roger couldn't believe he'd kissed her. But even more unbelievable was that despite the fact that that kiss was all he had thought about for the last 24 hours, Maureen barely remembered it and that burned even more than a straight shot of Jack Daniels. _Fuck her, she doesn't matter anyway._ And Roger allowed himself to believe that lie, using it as his lullaby to finally fall asleep that night.

**Please, can I have a review? Please? Oh and I'm almost done with the next chapter so stay tuned! Bye now! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi guys, here's the next chapter…I'm kind of sad, it seems like no one's reading. I mean, I'm enjoying writing this, but it's kind of depressing to have posted 5 chapters and have 1 review. Anyway, here you go! As always, I own nothing.**

Maureen continued to skirt around Roger whenever they were within the same proximity; thankfully this wasn't too difficult because he was suddenly quite immersed in his band. It seemed that after a long dry spell, he was finally back to regularly writing songs.

Mark and Collins (who had finally stumbled back into the flat a week after his drunken hunt, bearing no food, but grinning nonetheless) were beginning to question her money source. She didn't want to tell them that she had a hefty trust fund her parents couldn't touch. It wasn't that she thought they would stop liking her or judge her, she just figured it was her private business; plus, Benny didn't officially know about her wealth and she was going to keep it that way if she could help it.

_So_ she thought diplomatically _I should probably get a job._ What kind of job, she wasn't sure considering she had limited working experience (read: none) and wouldn't know where to begin applying. She strained her memory to remember what her guidance counselor had told her, she thought she recollected being told to "play to her strengths."

That being said, she determined she had a future either in pornography (and she realized how convenient that would be since her boyfriend's a videographer) or music. However, Maureen has always been a firm believer in **not** getting an STD so she had to settle for music. She didn't want to be like Roger and become a tragically hopeless struggling rock star. But she didn't know what else she could do if she chose something as abstract as music to be her career.

"Collins, what kind of musical careers are there?" Maureen called lazily one day, lying on the couch so that her legs were dangling over the back and her head and dangling over the front.

"Uh…" Collins was grading papers, "Not many unless you're Freddie Mercury." He drew something on a paper and flipped it over.

"Ugh, that was so unbelievably unhelpful, Thomas."

"How'd you know my first names Thomas?" He asked, not looking at her as he drew on a new piece of paper and flipped it over.

"Mark told me," Maureen sat up, "Whoa, blood rush." She rubbed her temples.

"That's what you get for trying to get freaky with the couch." He drew on another piece of paper.

"Are you actually grading those or just drawing pictures?" Maureen chose to ignore his jab.

"I like to draw smiley faces on the A papers." He grinned.

"Wow, they're all getting A's?"

"Hell no, sweetheart. I draw frownies on the D's and F's so they don't feel left out."

Maureen burst out laughing, "That's so kind of you, I'm sure they appreciate it. What do the B and C students get?"

"B's get stars and the C's get a 'what the fuck?' Cause I mean really? If you can't get an A, you might as well get an F." He finished "grading" his papers and stuffed them in his bag.

"I take back that compliment." Maureen rolled her eyes, "And you still haven't helped me with my problem."

"What problem?"

"Oh for God sake, my music problem!" Maureen snapped.

"Oh, oh right. Sorry, girl. Uh…what was the question again?"

"What job can I get that involves music!" Maureen yelled exasperatedly.

"Oh yeah…Well you can do what Roger does." He suggested.

"NO!" Maureen shouted.

"Damn girl, keep it down." Collins laughed, "You could teach music."

"I don't like kids and I think I'd have to go back to school for that."

"Yeah probably." Collins rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "You could sing on the streets and hope you don't get arrested."

Maureen pursed her lips.

"I don't know! Go sing at some coffee shops or something! Ask Roger if you can join his band! Go manage a band!"

"Manage a band?" Maureen held up a hand, silencing him.

"Yeah girl, manage a band." Collins grinned, "You know, make sure they get to shows…do official shit like that."

"That's…an interesting thought." Maureen nodded, "I wonder what that pays."

"Probably depends on how good the band is." Collins grabbed his bag, "Okay I'm out, I need to go give these papers back." He kissed her forehead then swaggered out the door.

Maureen sighed and got off the couch. She grabbed one of Roger's bananas then sat down on the table. There was trash everywhere, a hazard of living in a predominantly male household. There was also a crumbled up piece of paper with words scrawled across it. Maureen set her half eaten banana aside and smoothed out the paper so she could read it.

In typical boy fashion, Roger had horrid handwriting so it took Maureen a few minutes to decipher it. _Don't know what I'm gonna do about this feeling inside_…Maureen squinted her eyes, holding the paper first an inch from her face then at arms length, "Jesus, Roger, did you take a penmanship class?" she muttered. _Yes it's true, loneliness took me for a ride._ Maureen couldn't make out the next few lines till _What can I do? I'm sleeping in this bed alone._

Before Maureen could contemplate the meaning behind the lyrics, she heard Roger and Mark coming up the stairs and quickly crumbled the paper back up and threw it on the table then grabbed her banana and stuffed half of it down her throat.

"Hey hon," Mark grinned at her, "How's it going?"

Maureen gave a noncommittal shrug. She feared that if she opened her mouth, banana would come out instead of words.

"That's promising." The photographer chuckled, "We should try this again: How's it going?"

Maureen shrugged and tried her shake at a mumbled "okay."

Roger shook his head at Mark, "Dude, can't you see she was eating one of my bananas and now she's trying to cover it up by hiding it in her esophagus?"

Finally, finally Maureen swallowed, "Excuse you, I wasn't hiding anything! I was hungry!"

"They're my bananas!" Roger pointed out.

"Well, would you like that one back?" Maureen asked sweetly, "I can try to throw it back up, but I have a really good gag reflex so it might not work."

"I'm not gonna touch that one." Roger held up his hands, "That'd be too easy." He reached around her, his hand brushing her hip as he grabbed a banana, "Later." He turned and went into his room, pulling the curtain shut behind him.

"Well then." Mark said awkwardly.

"In response to your previous questions, everything is going swimmingly." Maureen tore her eyes away from Roger's curtain, "How was your day?"

As Mark went into a soliloquy about his latest documentary about eating disorders (_eating disorders? Really, Mark? _She'd thought when he'd told her about it originally), Maureen began thinking about her future career…again. Could she really manage a band? And if she were to manage one, who's? Would Roger let her manage his band? Hell, would she let herself manage his band? She knows absolutely nothing about band managing. And she cannot stand Roger Davis; He's insufferable and obnoxious and fully of himself and…_beautiful_ her inner self sighed. Maureen mentally pictured herself bitch slapping her inner self.

"God, what's wrong with me?" Maureen groaned, cradling her head in her hands.

"Um, what?" Mark looked perturbed.

_Oh shit…was he still talking?_ Maureen thought frantically, "Oh sorry, Pookie." She didn't bother coming up with an excuse; Mark didn't need one.

"Do you want to go to dinner?" Mark offered, "I got paid today."

"Don't waste your money, Mark." She smiled, "You might need that for rent or something later."

"Come on Maureen, we haven't actually gone anywhere in ages!" Mark went over to her and took her cold hands in his, "It doesn't have to be fancy, we can just go to the Life or something."

"Well…" Maureen bit her lip then remembered Roger and flushed, "Alright, why not."

"Hey Rog, we're gonna go out, do you want us to bring you anything?" Mark called while he helped Maureen into her coat. There was no reply so Mark shrugged then took Maureen's hand and led her out into the cold night.

Roger was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall, which was quite risky if one were afraid of spiders because there are plenty of webs there, but since Roger's not a pansy like say, Mark, this didn't bother him.

He had a notebook propped against his knees and was trying to write the words flying through his brain down as quickly as possible. _You're my angel, come and save me tonight. You're my angel, come and take me alright…_ He sighed, twirling the pen through his fingers. He'd been writing this song in random bits so nothing was in order; usually he had a formula for songs, but since Maureen moved in, the universe has been backwards.

Roger threw his pen across the room in frustration then sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose. It made no sense to him. He didn't let girls run his life. He was more of a 'wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am-one-night-stand' kind of guy than a yuppie running after a pair of stilettos with a bouquet of flowers.

"Fucking Maureen…" He muttered then groaned because that made him think of _fucking_ Maureen. These thoughts he had were dangerous…_Hey that's good._ He grinned to himself, grabbing a new piece of paper to start a new song. _These thoughts I have are dangerous…_he wrote then relaxed and let the song write itself.

**I don't own that song. It's Angel by Aerosmith. It's a pretty good song, I recommend listening to it. If I can get some reviews, I'll post the next chapter soon! Thanks. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Yet again, I added this chapter without putting the disclaimer and such…oops…Anyway, here's chapter 6! I own nothing; everything will always belong to Jonathon Larson. **

Insomnia is a most unfortunate thing. Maureen had suffered from it for years. To be more specific, she'd been dealing with it since one of her bone head boyfriends had taken her to see _The Shining._ _Stupid Jack Nicholson and his stupid crazy face and his stupid "Heeeere's Johnny!" line_, she fumed to herself. Next to her, Mark was snoring lightly, sprawled across his pillow. Maureen smiled and brushed his hair off his forehead then slid out of the bed.

Theoretically, tea should help her fall asleep, but a. they probably didn't have tea and b. she quite disliked the taste of it so it didn't really matter. She padded through the moonlit flat, pleased that she hadn't run into anything then sat down by the window. She watched some homeless people milling around the streets then turned her face away.

"She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand like a lizard on a window pane. The man in the crowd with the multicolored mirrors on his hobnail boots. Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy working over time…" She sang under her breath. It wasn't really a cheerful song, but it was one of her favorite Beatles tunes.

"I need a fix cause I'm going down…" She heard a new voice. She turned and saw Roger standing in the doorway to his room. He was clad in a pair of shorts and no shirt and she was surprised to see that he was in relatively good shape.

"You're staring." He smirked, stepping further into the room.

"So are you." She retorted, well aware of his eyes on her bare legs. She'd developed a habit of wearing an over sized t shirt to bed because otherwise she'd die from heat exhaustion; for a little guy, Mark produced a hell of a lot of body heat.

"I figured you'd be bundled up; you're always complaining about how cold it is." He pretended to shiver and rubbed his biceps with his hands.

"Go in there and get in bed with Mark and you'll see why I'm not."

"Uh yeah no thanks." Roger sat down across from her so he too could stare at the homeless people.

"Couldn't sleep?" She asked after a few minutes of silence that was neither comfortable nor awkward.

"Obviously." Roger had pulled his knees up closer to his chest and was balancing his arms on them, "What's the matter? Did you have a bad dream?"

"Actually I did." Maureen admitted.

Roger raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Gasp, you're actually admitting to weakness?"

"Having a nightmare is not a sign of weakness!" She insisted.

"Whatever you say, Maureen."

Maureen turned her face away from him, trying to ignore his presence.

"So are you gonna tell me what it was about?"

"Why should I?"

"I dunno, I just figured it'd be a true confessions moment." Roger shrugged.

"Do you even care?" She turned her gaze on him.

Roger stared her for an endless minute, "Maybe I do. Doesn't change a thing."

"What would it have changed?"

"Nothing. Look, are you gonna tell me or not?" Roger hastily changed the subject.

"It's not that exciting. It was about Jack Nicholson kicking down the door to the apartment and trying to kill me, but it didn't matter cause it was so cold in here he froze to death."

"That sounds very similar to the original plot line." Roger pointed out.

"That's not the point. He was trying to kill _me._"

"You can't die in your dreams, Maureen."

"That's a lie, you can too."

Roger held up his hands in surrender, "Okay, okay, believe what you want, Princess."

"Wow."

"What?"

"Just wow. It must be a record. We were together for like 10 minutes before you called me 'Princess.' You actually used my name. Twice." She grinned at him.

"So what?" Roger laughed, "Does that make a difference?"

"Yes, yes it does."

"Want to explain?"

"Nope." Maureen wrapped her arms around her legs and rubbed them, trying to get warm.

"Wow."

"What?"

"Just wow." He parroted, "It must be a record. We were out here for like 10 minutes before you got cold."

"You're so annoying sometimes." She laughed, "You memorized my words."

"They weren't exactly profound."

"That doesn't matter. You actually _listened_ to me."

"I always listen to you. I just don't react afterwards."

"You do not." She rolled her eyes, "You ignore my existence."

"I couldn't ignore you if I tried." Roger had his head ducked down.

_Is he saying what I think he's saying?_ She cocked her head to the side, "Really."

"Well yeah. You're voice is so strident, you probably interfere with bat sonar. And don't get me started about how you crash around here."

_Oh…guess not._ "Like you can talk! Your angst makes it almost impossible to breathe in here!" She shot back.

"What angst?" He asked incredulously.

"You can't be serious." Maureen shook her head, "Roger, all you do is angst."

"I don't think you can use the word 'angst' as a verb."

"Please, did you even go to school?"

Roger looked offended, "I graduated high honors!"

Maureen blinked at him dubiously.

"I did! Just ask Mark!"

"Alright, fine." Maureen rubbed her legs again.

Roger got up and disappeared into his room, reappearing with the blanket on his bed. He unceremoniously tossed it over her legs.

"Why Roger, that was actually sweet of you!" Maureen gasped, genuinely shocked.

"I was tired of looking at your underwear."

Maureen blushed crimson and tucked the blanket closer around her.

"They were very boring." He added conversationally, "I expected something more exciting from you."

"What do you mean?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Well I mean, they're black. I expected something weird from you. Like some stupid pattern. I don't get why girls bother wearing stuff like that. It's not like anyone even sees it."

"It's kind of difficult to get normal underwear, actually." Maureen admitted, "This is the plainest pair I own, by the way. I own a lot of fun underwear."

"What constitutes as 'fun' underwear? Is it edible?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"That would be so gross! Would you actually eat a pair of edible underwear after someone wore it?"

"Well, I'd have to assume it'd be similar to eating someone o-" He began.

"Okay enough!" Maureen cut him off, burying her face in the blanket.

Again they sat in silence until, "You look strange."

"Thanks Maureen, so do you." Roger rolled his eyes.

"Well no I mean, you look almost…naked…"

"I am almost naked; I'm not wearing a shirt!"

"That's not what I meant!" Maureen waved her hands around in annoyance, "I mean…I've never see you without your guitar…it's just weird."

"And here I was thinking you were admiring my impressive physique." Roger struck a pose.

"Why would I want to stare at your chest?" Maureen laughed, "I've seen tons of guys' chests."

"Face it, Maureen, you want me." He smirked.

"I don't want you." Maureen said, "However, I do want to know why you have brown chest hair if your hair is blonde."

"First of all, I barely have any chest hair and secondly, a person's body hair doesn't always match the hair on their head." He replied angrily.

"Or maybe you dye your hair." She grinned slyly.

"I don't dye my hair, Maureen." He said wearily, "That just the way my hair is. Stop looking at my chest!"

"What else am I supposed to look at?" Maureen laughed, "It's just you and me right now."

"Go stare at your boyfriend's chest for a little while." He muttered irately.

"I should probably just go back to bed." Maureen stood up, letting the blanket slide off of her, "I don't want him to wake up alone."

"God forbid." He mumbled, averting his eyes from her legs.

Maureen reached out and touched Roger's bare shoulder lightly, "Thanks for staying up with me, Rog."

"Yeah, don't mention it." Roger said gruffly, standing up as well.

Maureen bit her lip and stepped around him, but got tangled in the blankets and pitched forward. Roger dove and caught her before she hit the floor. Maureen was shaking with silent laughter. Roger hauled her up so she was sort of standing, although in her delirious state, her knees gave out so he ended up cradling her against his chest.

"You know, this isn't really funny." He muttered, holding her against him to keep her from sliding.

"I know-I-" She gasped, trying to catch her breath. After taking a few deep breaths and pressing her face against his chest, Maureen finally settled down. She glanced up only to have Roger staring down at her.

"In a different world, I'd have taken you on the floor by now." He murmured to her.

She tilted her face up to his, "Why not in this world?"

He just gave her a half smile and released her. Then without another word he turned and disappeared into the darkness of his room.

Maureen slid down to her knees and wrapped herself in the blanket again, "Shit." She muttered to herself and realized that now she had a new reason behind her insomnia, and he was pretending to be asleep not even 20 feet away.

**Thank you BeforeTheSongDies for my review, it's nice to know that someone's reading. As always, feed back is forever appreciated! I'm midway through the next chapter so I'll be updating soon =0)**


	7. Chapter 7

** So here's the next chapter. I've already written the next, next one, but I probably won't be able to post it for a little while so hopefully this will hold everyone over for a little while. I own nothing and I don't think the experiment Collins tries is a real experiment, but I don't recommend attempting it just in case it does cause an explosion. **

"Theoretically, this should work," Said Collins, holding baking soda over a jar of peanut butter.

"What's the point of this again?" Maureen asked, propping her elbows on her knees.

"I heard from one of my students that if you put baking soda in peanut butter, it smokes." He replied, making sure he'd measured out enough baking soda.

"Are you sure about this, man?" Roger raised his eyebrows, offering a slice of orange to Maureen.

"Of course I'm sure!" Collins said indignantly, "Now hush and let me make magic happen."

"This could be disastrous." Roger muttered to Maureen.

"Maybe we should move back a bit." She murmured back, popping the orange slice in her mouth.

"Ready!" Collins yelled then dumped the baking soda into the peanut butter.

Nothing happened.

"Fuck, I thought it'd work." He looked crushed.

"Told you it wouldn't." Roger snorted, "Oh and you owe me a jar of peanut butter now."

"Right man, put it on my tab." Collins winked.

"That was so anticlimactic. I was really hoping for an explosion or at least some reaction." Maureen sighed, standing up.

"You know it's sad when we have to rely on Collins and his stupid tricks to amuse us." Roger grinned at Maureen.

"Don't remind me, I'm well aware of our pathetic-ness."

Collins sighed dejectedly and tossed the peanut butter into the trash can, "Well that was a bust."

"You think?" Maureen laughed, "Now what?"

Roger stood up and stretched his arms over his head, wandering around.

"Rog, you have something stuck to your butt." Maureen reached over and grabbed it.

"Get out of my private square!" He leapt away from her.

"Please, you've never had any issues allowing a girl into your 'private square.'" She rolled her eyes and straightened out the paper that had been stuck to him, "It's from Mark…it says we need to go food shopping since all we have left are oranges and…peanut butter." Maureen giggled.

"Uh I think we can successfully say that we no longer have peanut butter." Roger laughed, "And I think we just ate the last orange too."

"Guess we have something to do now." She went into Mark's room to grab her bag.

"I'm not going." Collins announced.

"Why not? I don't want to go!" Roger frowned at him.

"I went last time!"

"So? You got rid of the peanut butter!"

"Yeah well you finished the oranges!"

"I don't want to go!"

"I don't care!"

Maureen came back into the room and leaned against the door, "Would you two please shut up?" She rubbed between her eyes, "Roger, come on."

"That's not fair!" He whined.

"I went last time!" Collins glared.

"Okay, okay. Roger, let's go, it's your turn." Maureen grabbed his hand and ignored her stomach leaping to her throat.

"Why can't you go by yourself?" Roger groaned.

"I can't carry everything back by myself!" Maureen retorted, hauling the blonde down the stairs and onto the street.

Roger had long figured out that the easiest way to ensure that one doesn't buy too much to carry home is to grab baskets instead of carriages. So he handed Maureen one then took one for himself, "Did he leave a list?"

"I don't know, turn around." A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.

Roger, in spite of this jab, cracked up and turned around, "Anything?" He asked, wiggling his butt.

"Nope, nothing."

"Okay, you're turn." He grinned wickedly.

"What do you mean my turn! I wasn't the one with the paper stuck to my ass!"

"Maureen, just turn around."

Maureen reluctantly complied.

Roger tilted his head, admiring her ass, imagining what it would feel like under his fingers.

"Well?" Maureen snapped impatiently.

"Nope, you're good." He replied cheerfully, "I was just appreciating the tightness of your pants."

"Like you can talk, yours are just as tight." She smirked, "At least I have the excuse of being a girl."

"From what I hear, I have impressive physique and I like to put on a show." He retorted.

"And who told you that?" She cocked a brow.

"I don't reveal my sources." He winked, "We need to move, we're blocking the nuts."

Maureen oh so maturely started laughing hysterically.

"Oh for God's sake." Roger muttered, grabbing her arm and hauling her out of the way, "What should we get first."

"Um," Maureen bit her lip, trying not to laugh, "Probably some sort of fruit. I don't know about you, but I don't want scurvy."

"Oh please, only pirates get scurvy." Roger was attempting to juggle apples.

"That's because they don't eat fruit meaning other people who don't eat fruit can get it to." Maureen explained patiently, grabbing a bunch of bananas.

Roger grabbed a few oranges and added them to his act, "What's so bad about getting scurvy?"

"Do you enjoy getting sick?" She turned around, "Roger, put those down!"

Roger started and dropped the produce, "Oops." He laughed sheepishly.

Maureen sighed heavily and knelt down to pick them up. Roger got on the floor with her to help. She grabbed an apple at the same time he did and they both released it quickly. _God, what is this, a romantic block buster?_ Roger thought irately, finishing scooping up the fruit and putting it back.

"No more games please." Maureen requested, clambering to her feet, "Be useful and grab more oranges…not the ones that were just rolling on the floor."

They systematically moved through the store, grabbing bread, bagels, turkey from the deli ("turkeys so gross," Roger shuddered), ham salad ("ham salads so gross," Maureen parroted), orange juice, squeezey cheese ("Really, Roger, really?"), Advil, chocolate, Chips Ahoy cookies, Captain Crunch, tampons ("Those are going in your basket!"), and, of course, peanut butter.

Once they got to the check out aisle (almost an hour later because of Roger's short attention span), both were quite done with each other. They both reached for their wallets once they had been totaled. Roger tried to be chivalrous and insist on paying, but they both knew that he didn't have enough money so she bought the food. Roger, however, offered to carry the heavy bags because he felt more than a little embarrassed.

"Where the hell do you get the money?" He asked after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, "I mean, are you a prostitute by night or something?"

"It's none of your business." She replied, turning her face away.

"You're right, it's not, but then again you bought tampons in my presence."

"Roger, I paid for them!"

"Yeah, I know, but it's still gross!"

"Honestly, would you grow up?" She laughed.

"Are you going to answer my question?" He tried again.

"No." She insisted, "Although I am considering getting a job of some sort."

"Oh really?" Roger looked surprised; he'd never pegged her for the type to seek out employment, "and what would you be doing?"

"Well…" She cleared her throat, realizing this was her only chance to bring up the managing thing to him.

"Well?" He prodded, shifting the groceries in his arms.

"Do you want me to take a bag?" she evaded.

"Come on, Princess, just tell me. Inform me of what you plan on doing to contribute to society."

"Well, um, it's kind of…Look, don't laugh at me. Or yell at me, for that matter." She was walking quickly now.

"Uh, okay?" Roger agreed curiously, rushing to catch up to her, "Though you could slow down a bit."

Maureen instantly dropped her pace, "Collins and I were talking the other night about this and we determined that my only career option is music."

"Yeah," Roger nodded, "Makes sense, I guess. It's not exactly an easy career path, though."

"Well, I know…that's something else we determined."

"Ah." Roger tried to figure out where she was going with the speech.

"So, he suggested, um." She bit her lip, "He suggested band managing."

Roger nodded again, "Believe me, there are a lot of bands that need managing out there. Who's would you manage?"

Maureen ducked her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Do you even know any bands?" He laughed, "You don't even go to clubs unless Mark drags you along to listen to my band-" He broke off, finally figuring it out.

Maureen shifted her one bag of food to her other arm and stared straight ahead.

"No way, Maureen. You wouldn't know what you're doing." He tried to sound nice about it.

Maureen sighed, tears stinging her eyes; it wasn't that he'd said no, she'd expected that, it was that she'd even bothered.

"Maybe if you go to some clubs and get to know some bands, they'll hire you." He suggested, "But you wouldn't fit in with my band at all."

"Just forget it." Maureen muttered, walking ahead of him.

"Maureen…" Roger called, "I'm sorry."

Maureen ignored him and ran up the steps to their flat, shoved the door open, put the groceries down and disappeared into Mark's room.

** May I just thank "K" for your review? It made me so, so very happy and I truly appreciate it. I love getting reviews, it gives me a glowy feeling inside so please feel free to keep them coming =0) **


	8. Chapter 8

**Yay! I graduated! Now I can write whenever! So yeah, I own nothing, I wish I could be in Roger's pants, but I'm not. Now I present Chapter 8! Dun, dun, dun!**

Whatever quasi-friendship that Roger had developed with Maureen appeared to be over in lieu of their conversation about jobs. It was just as well, he wasn't comfortable with how he felt when he was near Maureen and at least now that feeling had gone away…for the most part. Contact with her was unavoidable because of their living arrangement, but just because they lived together didn't mean they had to speak.

A prime example would have been the other morning, when Mark had already left for the day and Roger was just emerging from his room. He had groggily crossed to the bathroom and just as he reached for the door knob, it turned and Maureen practically walked into him, clad only in a towel.

Oh, uh, hi." Roger mumbled, turning red and shifting his eyes away from her.

"Hey." Maureen replied, also blushing furiously.

"Listen, about the other day." Roger began.

"Can you move, please?" She interrupted, "It's a little chilly in just a towel."

"Right…sorry…" Roger stepped aside, letting her brush past him and hastily disappear into Mark's room…again. Roger stepped into the bathroom, the smell of coconut lingering from Maureen's shampoo. He was uncertain about whether he apologized for getting in the way or for hurting her feelings.

Anyway, even a week later, Maureen barely spoke to him and when Mark questioned him, he shrugged it off, blaming her hormones. The irony of the entire situation was, barely a day after he turned down Maureen's offer, his long standing agreement with a club manager to have a weekly spot self-destructed. Then two days later, his bassist decided that he was finished with the band and set off to create one of his own which in his words would "kick their pathetic, talent-less asses."

Roger was now in search of a bassist and desperately trying to land a steady gig. He had taken for granted his weekly spot because it meant that he had a constant flow of cash. Now he and his band barely made any money because, as fate would have it, his backstabbing bassists' new band was stealing all of his options.

Meanwhile, Maureen was out every night, shadowing other managers, sneaking backstage and talking to various people. She had gathered enough information to know that this was a cutthroat business and almost every band manager in New York was a self-absorbed misogynist. Unfortunately, no one was hiring and she began to wonder if they were only saying that because she had tits; it seemed like every band desired her to be a groupie rather than an equal.

Roger realized that maybe it was a sign from a God he didn't believe in to go back to Maureen and ask her to help them; like maybe if he hadn't turned her down none of this crap would have happened. Now his predicament was finding the opportune moment to talk to her about it.

Of course she was doing her best at ignoring him. He started out with the direct approach, going over and sitting next to her on the couch while she read. "Hey." He started.

"Hi." She replied, keeping her eyes on the pages in front of her.

"So…remember our conversation from the other, uh, week?"

"Mhm," She murmured, idly flipping a page.

"Well you see, the funny thing is we suddenly find ourselves in a bind…and be 'we' I mean my band." He slid closer to her on the couch.

"Really." She replied flatly.

"Yes, really." Roger sensed this wasn't working and decided to try a different tactic, "Look when you first offered, we didn't need the help, but I think I jinxed us that day and now we really, really need you."

"I don't think so," Maureen stood up, shutting her book, "You were right. I wouldn't 'fit in' with you guys. Maybe you should go ask someone who 'knows what their doing.'"

Roger ducked his head in embarrassment, "Maureen, I was wrong."

"So was I for offering." Maureen put her book down then grabbed her coat, "Don't wait up for me." She called over her shoulder.

Roger cradled his head in his hands, "This isn't gonna be as easy as I thought," He muttered.

Roger determined that chocolate was the way to a girl's heart…or at least to her help. So he used what was left of his money to buy a huge block of chocolate then he waited to get her alone. It was just his luck that Mark would have an uncharacteristic burst of assertiveness and actually initiate a sexual encounter, therefore tying up Maureen for a few hours (Roger mused about the fact that before Maureen, Marks sexual encounters lasted an hour at most).

Roger decided his best bet would be to set up camp in the living area and wait out the storm, so to speak. Around 2, he assumed that everything was over and Mark was fast asleep so he crept over to the door and gently eased it open. Mark was sprawled across the bed, leaving little room for Maureen who was curled up in a tiny ball on the very edge of the mattress.

Roger laughed quietly to himself over Maureen's misfortune before sidling into the room and kneeling down by the edge of the bed, "Maureen." He murmured, reaching out and poking her shoulder. She didn't move. "Maureen." He poked her again. She swatted at him. "Come on Maureen, wake up…" He muttered, shoving her. Maureen mumbled something incoherent. Roger shoved her again. Maureen's eyes finally flew open and her mouth opened to scream. Thinking fast, Roger clapped a hand over her face to muffle the sound, "Shut up, it's me."

"What the fuck are you doing?" She hissed…well he assumed that's what she said; his hand covered most of it, but he figured that was close enough.

"Come on." He jerked his head towards Mark, "I don't wanna wake him up."

"Why should I go anywhere with you?" She muttered, but she rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants.

Roger vacated the room quickly then sat on the couch and waited for her to stumble after him.

"What do you want, Roger?" Maureen groaned, pushing her crazy bed hair off her face.

"I just wanted to talk to you, but you're avoiding me!"

"I'm avoiding you?" She seethed, "You're avoiding me!"

_Shit,_ He thought, _I shouldn't be pissing her off…_He quickly changed tactics, "I know I am Maureen, I am but a lowly man who cannot handle anything beyond a few beers and an orgasm." Was it Roger or did her mouth twitch? "I know I said you don't know a lot about band managing, but I've realized in the last week that I don't know a lot about being in a band so maybe the 2 of us being together not knowing how to do anything will result in something…good?"

Maureen blinked at him incredulously.

"Okay that got a little jumbled…" Roger sighed, "What I'm trying to say is maybe it doesn't matter whether or not you know what you're doing…maybe it's better to just jump in and do it anyway."

Maureen was silent.

"I'm not good with words!" Roger exclaimed "I can't adequately explain myself, please just believe me!" Roger ran his hands through his hair then remembered the chocolate, "I'll be right back, don't move!" He scrambled off the couch and disappeared into the darkness.

Maureen sighed heavily and crossed her arms. Little did Roger know that Maureen would've said yes after his first speech, but it had been awhile since Maureen Johnson had made a man squirm and she was quite enjoying it.

Roger slid on his heels back to her and knelt down in front of her, "I got you this because well…girls like this stuff…and stuff." He held out the chocolate.

Maureen stared at it then burst out laughing, "Really Roger? Chocolate?" She giggled.

"You said yourself that chocolate was the way to a girl's heart!" Roger practically pouted.

"Are you seducing me?" She batted her eyelashes.

"That depends, will it convince you to help me?" He was still holding out the chocolate.

"Alright, alright, let me think." She leaned back and pretended to contemplate everything, "Okay, fine, give me the damn chocolate."

Roger grinned and threw his arms around her waist, burying his face in her thigh.

Maureen giggled hysterically, "Um, Roger, you're violating my private square."

Roger pulled back, blushing, "Right…um…sorry."

"So when do we start?" Maureen asked, also blushing as she pulled her knees to her chest.

"Um, now?" Roger grinned.

"Roger Davis, you've got yourself a new manager." She broke off a piece of chocolate and together they toasted to a renewed friendship and a new career.

**Please review my story? I hate to beg, but then again I hate to grocery shop and I do that too so please if I could have a review, I would be a happy girl! Next chapter is written, but I'm going to try to hold out for a review or two. *Bats eyelashes* **


	9. Chapter 9

**So as promised, here's Chapter 9! I own nothing, blah blah blah Enjoy!**

"So let me get this straight," Mark began, "You're hiring her as your band's manager?"

"Yup, pretty much." Roger nodded.

"And you agreed to do it?" Mark turned to Maureen.

"Yup, pretty much." Maureen said wryly.

"I thought you two hated each other." Mark furrowed his brow.

"We've come to a mutual understanding." Roger replied wisely, pushing his empty plate away from him.

"Exactly. I need the money, he needs the help." Maureen ran her finger around the edge of her glass.

"You mean you're actually going to pay her?" Mark signaled the waitress down so they could get their check.

"Theoretically. I mean, we need to get a gig first so that we get money; but once we do all of that, then yeah we can pay her."

"And it will be my job to land them said gig." Maureen finished proudly.

"Have you ever band managed before?" Mark asked skeptically.

"No, but I'm a fast learner." She shrugged.

"Well…alright then." Mark laughed, "But I'm not cleaning up the mess when one of you kills the other."

"That won't happen." Roger assured him. He handed Maureen her coat then grabbed his, "We're so desperate that we'll probably worship the ground she walks on."

"As you should." Maureen winked then grabbed Mark's hand and led him out into the snow.

Maureen was rather bored. She'd been sitting on an amp listening to the boys bicker for the last hour. Roger asked her to come to their practices so she could "bond with the guys" and so they could "get to know her" so in the end they'd all be "good friends."

"Dude the feedback on that fucking sucks." Roger's drummer Micah complained.

"Dude, your drumming fucking sucks." Johnny the bassist retorted.

"Well that was original, Johnny." Sully, rhythm guitar, laughed.

"Guys, please." Roger sighed as Johnny flipped Sully off, "Johnny, adjust the sound on the amp, Sully, you need to put something over the strings to cover all the times you fuck up and Micah, stop fucking complaining."

Maureen sighed and twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

"How come she's not doing anything?" Sully cocked his head at her, "Isn't she part of the band?"

"She's part of the business, not the music." Roger glanced over at Maureen who offered him a sly smile, "Meaning we need to get some real songs down so she can do her job."

While the others began adjusting their equipment (Sully grumbling about how Roger never had to cover his strings), Roger went over and sat down next to Maureen, "It's pretty hot right, watching a real band in action." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Oh it's so sexy, watching 5 boys having ego trips really gets me hot." She rolled her eyes teasingly.

"This is nothing; we can be much more egotistical." He assured her.

"Gee, I can't wait for that." She shoved him with her shoulder.

"Hey Romeo," Micah called, "Let's go. You can seduce her later." He winked at Maureen.

Roger sighed wearily and got up. He grabbed his guitar then looked around, "Ready?" And for the hundredth time that day they launched into their song.

"Then he wrapped himself in a mustard yellow muumuu and ran through the streets of uptown Manhattan." Roger grinned as Maureen grabbed his arm to keep from collapsing in giggles, "Needless to say, that was the last time she called him."

"I can't believe," Maureen gasped, clutching her side, "That you guys actually let him do that!"

"It was a challenge which he rose to beautifully." Roger opened the door to the flat for her.

"I'll never be able to look Sully the same way again."

"We called him Big Bird for awhile," He added, putting his guitar case down and tossing his coat to the side.

"You don't anymore?" Maureen went to the fridge and pulled out two beers.

"Nope." Roger took a long pull from his bottle, "Can't."

"How come?"

"Well…we all lost a challenge and part of the deal was if we lost then we had to stop calling him that."

"What was the-"

"Okay that's enough." Roger put a finger to her lips, "Let's find food."

If Roger had been anyone else, Maureen would've kissed his finger…or bit it…or licked it, but because he wasn't anyone else she just smiled and stepped back.

Roger let his hand linger in the air for a minute before turning away and meandering through the "kitchen." "Do we have food?"

"Do I look psychic?" Maureen called, perching on the table and crossing her legs.

"No, psychics wear cooler clothes and have big glasses." He muttered.

"Excuse you! I wear cool clothes!" She shot a glare at him.

"Sure you do, Princess." He snorted, rifling through the fridge, "We have moldy cheese."

"Mark just went shopping the other day, there has to be food somewhere!"

"I don't see any…"

"That's cause you're blind." She swung off the table and began looking through the cabinets, "Maybe you need big glasses."

"I have 20/20 vision!" Roger sputtered.

"Clearly," Maureen brandished a box of s'more pop tarts at him, "You do not."

"What the fuck…where were they?"

"In the cabinet…" She laughed, ripping open the box and tossing him one.

"You know, we're gonna get scurvy now." Roger grinned at her.

"You said a few weeks ago you don't care about scurvy." Maureen retorted.

"Well, maybe now I do."

"Mhm, so go buy some more bananas."

"…I have better things to buy with my money."

"I thought so."

"You know there really isn't anything to do around here." Roger glanced around, having stuffed his entire pop tart into his mouth already.

"You think?" Maureen snorted, "And don't you chew?"

"Why would I chew? That takes half the fun out of it!"

"Out of what?"

"The thrill of trying not to choke!"

Maureen threw her head back and laughed, "Roger Davis, you are the biggest idiot I have ever met."

"I resent that." Roger pouted, "You have hurt my feelings!"

"Spare me." Maureen laughed, "You don't have feelings."

Roger threw himself at her feet, "I HAVE FEELINGS, I'M A REAL BOY!" He shouted.

"Sure you are, Pinocchio."

Roger wrapped his arms around her legs and stared up at her, "You know if my nose grew right now, I'd basically be fucki-"

"Oh honestly, Roger." Maureen cut him off, trying to step back. Because of Roger the sloth, she ended up falling backwards and landing on the ground with a squeal.

"Oops…" Roger grinned sheepishly.

"Was that really necessary?" Maureen groaned.

"It was all part of my master plan!"

"And what master plan would that be?"

"Uh…" Roger began commando crawling up her body, "Well…if I told you, it wouldn't be secret anymore!"

"Uh-huh." Maureen laughed, "You're squishing me." She complained.

"Are you calling me fat?"

"Well…" Maureen began.

"HEY! You aren't being nice!"

"I was going to say that you aren't fat, you're just heavy when you're lying on top of me!"

"Oh…that's just a roundabout way of calling me fat."

"Jesus Roger you're turning into a girl.

"It's all that fucking estrogen! It's infiltrating my life!"

"Right into your uterus." Maureen winked.

"I don't have a uterus!"

Maureen giggled, "Bet you never thought you'd have to say that."

"You know what, Maureen." Roger laughed, "Go away."

"Well I would, but you're on top of me. I'm still waiting for this master plan of yours."

"Shit…" Roger muttered.

"You don't have one!" Maureen crowed, "You're just lying on top of me for no reason!"

"I do too have a plan!"

"You so don't, you're just being obnoxious…again! Really, Roger, get off of me, someone could come in and they'll think that…I don't even know what they'd think, but it probably wouldn't be good and-" Maureen stopped talking because Rogers mouth was suddenly on hers and everything was burning and she no longer could breathe.

Roger hadn't actually planned to kiss her…he hadn't planned anything at all. But he realized that he would probably never have another opportunity like this one; an opportunity to make the throb of desire inside of him shut the fuck up. Roger was quite surprised that Maureen hadn't stopped him right away, that instead she'd opened her mouth to him. Feeling confident, he pulled his lips away from hers and tilted her chin up with his finger so that he could kiss a line down the hollow of her throat.

If Maureen had the ability to think, she would remember that she has a boyfriend who loves her and that Roger is someone that she's supposed to dislike and that anyone really could walk in, but her mind had gone blissfully blank.

Roger nearly lost it when a guttural moan escaped her lips. He'd moved back up to her jaw line and was using the tip of his tongue to trace a pattern. Just as Roger's hands began to slide their way up her shirt, Maureen pressed her palms against his chest, the universal sign for 'stop.' Roger pulled away and looked into her eyes. They were smoldering and even as she told him to stop, he could see in her eyes that she was begging for him. Reluctantly, Roger rolled off of her.

Maureen sat up quickly and pulled her knees against her chest, examining her thumb nail. She could hear Roger move in closer to her, could feel his breath rustle her hair as he pressed his lips to her ear, "No one has to know."

Maureen shuddered and Roger took this opportunity to brush her hair aside and kiss the back of her neck, "Roger…" She murmured, "We can't, it won't work."

"What won't?" He muttered against her shoulder.

"This. Us." Maureen was struggling to make a coherent sentence.

"Who says there has to be an 'us?'" Roger brought his face back to hers, "Why can't we just do this and not think and not label?"

"I'm not that kind of girl." Maureen slid away from him, "All I do is think."

"And that will be your downfall." Roger sighed then slowly stood back up, "It's dangerous to over think."

"It's just as dangerous to not think." She replied.

Roger turned away and went over to get his guitar.

"Recklessness." She murmured, "Will be your downfall."

If Roger heard her, he pretended not to as he disappeared back into his room and a new wall, thick with suppressed lust, built up between them.

**Thank you everyone for your reviews! BeforeTheSongDies, I told you something would happen =0) Michelle, thank you, your well organized review made my day. Rosella, I'm glad I made you laugh. I'm working on Chapter 10, it's a little difficult because my editor in chief (read: my best friend) has no internet and I'm too insecure to post it without her reading it, but I will try to get it up ASAP. Thank you all again, as always I love reviews. **


	10. Chapter 10

**May I present Chapter 10! It didn't take as long because I've realized that despite my newfound freedom, I have nothing to do. Plus my editor-in-chief managed to come on long enough to read through this! Yay! Jonathon Larson owns it all, I just like to pretend. **

"This," Roger began, sloshing his drink, "is awesome." He looked around the pulsating club, "How did you get us in here?"

"The guy owed me a favor," Maureen half-yelled over the band that was playing before Roger's.

"Maureen, I love you." Sully grabbed her hand and kissed it, "This place is 10,000 times better than our last club."

"Hey, hands off my woman, I'm planning to propose tonight after the show!" Micah shoved Sully away from Maureen.

"I like girls." Johnny chimed in, "Just thought I'd add my 2 cents."

"And here I was all these years thinking you were gay." Roger clapped him on the shoulder, "Good to know the truth."

"Dude, he's gay, he just doesn't realize it yet." Micah snorted.

"Boys, boys," Maureen chastised, "There's nothing wrong with being gay."

"We know, we just like to give him a hard time." Sully assured her.

"You're on in 5." A scrawny teenager informed them.

"Alright boys, power circle." Roger proclaimed, pulling them all together, "Maureen, you too." He held out an arm so she could fit in.

"A power circle?" Maureen asked skeptically.

"Micah started it, said it's good juju." Sully explained.

"Almighty Rock God," Roger began, "We ask that you bestow upon us your most bitchin' skills so that we may get a steady gig so that we may buy booze and find hot girls."

Maureen tried not to giggle.

"We also ask that you give me the strength to sing this show to my full potential, to keep Sully on his game so he doesn't play an E minor instead of a fucking G, to keep Johnny awake and to keep Micah from show boating too much." The boys grumbled at him but refused to break rank, "And so now I shall shut up so we can go rock this fucking club. Huzzah!"

"HUZZAH!" The boys shouted in response then let each other go to get ready to head on stage.

"That was quite the speech." Maureen laughed, "I'm sure you'll do fine."

Roger turned to her; they'd chosen to not speak of that night and continue their friendship as best they could, "Yeah well, if we do then it will prove that there is a Rock God."

"Mhm, if you say so. Now get your ass out there so we can get paid."

Without thinking, Roger kissed her cheek then dashed onto the stage to an uproarious crowd, leaving Maureen to obsess about what that meant.

_One Song Glory_

"It's so nice to finally have you alone," Maureen smiled seductively at Mark.

Mark flushed an amusing shade of pink, "I'm sorry, Maureen, I know I haven't been around much. It's just when there's work available, you have to jump on it because you never know when you'll be unemployed again."

"Oh pookie, I understand." Maureen slid her feet under the table and into his lap, "Why do you think I took this ridiculous job with Roger?"

"True. How's that going?" Mark squeezed her feet, making her squeal. She shot a glare at a woman next to them who was staring at them disapprovingly.

"Not too bad, all things considered. It's nice to be doing something productive."

"I had no idea you were even interested in music." Mark laughed.

"It's something I keep close to my chest, amongst other things." She bit her lip and enjoyed Mark's blushing again.

"Oh really?" Mark cleared his throat, "Such as?"

Maureen smirked and took a sip of her wine; she appreciated Mark's business because it meant that they could go to a real restaurant and eat real food and drink real wine, "Now if I told you everything at once, all the mystery would be gone."

"Aw come on, Maureen. We've been together for 2 months and it still seems like I barely know you."

"I like to take things slow."

"Says the girl who kissed me before she even knew my name. Or said 'hi.'"

"Well, physical love is different…I like to take the emotional stuff slow." She amended, not caring that Mark basically called her a slut in his own nice Mark-y way.

"Oh. Well I suppose that does make sense." Mark considered this, "What should we do after dinner?"

"You know how I feel about the physical." Maureen all but purred to him.

"Uh, well, I was thinking more about going to a movie or a walk or something." Mark stuttered.

"Hm. We could do that. I'd rather go for a walk, I'm not good at sitting still for extended periods of time." Maureen stood up, "Come on." She reached for his hand and, per usual, took the lead in their activities.

_A song about love_

There were a lot of things that pissed Roger off; most of them had to do with Maureen Johnson. It was the way she swung her hips when she walked, the way she giggled when she was flirting, how she could make sitting around and reading a magazine look sexy. But the worst thing was listening to her bone his roommate.

In the past, when Mark was with other girls, it hadn't bothered him because he'd never found any of them attractive. Yet hearing those soft sighs and murmured words of passion drove him mad. Usually he fled the apartment when they took part in sexual activities, but he had nowhere to go. There were only so many times one could wander the tent city before it gets old.

Their love session was seriously cramping Roger's songwriting. He had a series of one liners scribbled onto a page, but none of them connected and he couldn't throw a tune to any.

The day before, he and Maureen had gone grocery shopping…again. This time, they made a real list and split up then met up again to check out together. This time Roger paid. And this time they talked about neutral things: the band and Collins. Typically, Maureen was completely enraptured by Collins; he and Mark called it gay-boy-syndrome. For some reason, women generally were attracted to gay men, even when they were aware of their homosexuality.

They'd even done an experiment. They'd dragged Collins to a club that wasn't gay and had him sit alone at the bar. In 7 minutes (Roger actually wore a watch that day), 5 women went to Collins and asked if a. they could buy him a drink or b. if he would buy them a drink. Collins declined all of them, choosing instead to chat up the Latino bartender. He got lucky that night, not with the busty redhead nor with the hot brunette, but with Enrique, the barman.

Maureen got a kick out of that story, though she confessed that she'd have a hard time choosing between the brunette and Enrique. Roger wasn't sure if she said that to turn him on or if she was serious, but he also wasn't sure if he wanted to know and chose not to comment.

Roger sighed wearily and placed his guitar gently aside, deciding that maybe if he drank enough beer a song would come to him. He'd just popped the top of his second beer when the man of the hour, Collins, stumbled into the flat, "You know, we might have to charge a service fee for those who only come home once every 2 weeks."

"Funny," Collins rolled his eyes, "I have a life, you know."

"So do I," Roger leaned against the counter, "Where do you stay at night? Do you have some other apartment that I'm not aware of?"

"I have other friends who open their homes to me." Collins grinned slyly, "I have good connections…and I'm an excellent guest."

"Why do I feel like you have a boyfriend and you're not spilling."

"I never said anything about a boyfriend, just a friend."

"So what's this supposed friend's name?" Roger pried.

"That I cannot disclose at this time. However, I would love a beer."

"Uh-uh, get out, you don't have access to the fridge!" Roger blocked it.

"Come on, man! Just a beer! I paid your share of the rent for a year." He reminded the blonde.

"Shit…" Roger muttered and stepped aside so Collins could get his damn beer.

"So M&M's still going strong?" Collins nodded his head toward Marks room, where things had gone silent.

"Yup, quite surprisingly." Roger replied in a blasé tone.

"Ah." Collins smiled knowingly, "I see."

"What? What do you see?" Roger furrowed his brow.

"You're not just jealous…you have a thing for her!" He half-shouted gleefully.

"Would you shut up!" Roger hissed then shook his head, "I do not."

"Mhm, so that's why she's your manager now?"

"She's my band's manager, not mine and-how did you know that?"

"Oh darling, I have my sources."

"Okay creep, get this through your head, she's my friend and she's helping me out, that's all."

Collins held up his hands in surrender, "Okay lover boy, whatever you say."

Maureen popped her head into the room, "Is that Collins I hear?"

"Yeah girl, in the flesh." Collins stepped around Roger.

Maureen pranced into the room and threw herself into his arms, laughing happily.

"How's my baby girl?" Collins spun her around.

"I'm great!" Maureen swayed slightly when he put her back down, her face flushed with exhilaration, "How long are you home for?"

"Eh, however long I want to stay." Collins said, non-committal as always.

"You should come to Roger's show tomorrow! You can hang out backstage with me, protect me from the creeps."

"Maybe I will…but I won't be able to see them if I'm backstage."

"You're supposed to listen, not watch." Maureen rolled her eyes playfully.

Mark came into the room, pulling a sweatshirt over his head, "Collins! Hey!"

"Hey lovebird." Collins gave him one of those stupid 'manly' hugs with lots of back slapping, "We were just talking about Roger's show tomorrow night, are you going?"

"I'm gonna film it." Mark replied, "Maureen asked me to."

"Anything for the Princess." Roger muttered, but only Maureen seemed to have heard him. She glanced at him, looking hurt. He opened his mouth to apologize then turned away.

"I thought," Maureen watched Roger's back for a moment then turned to the other two, "That it would be a good idea to film them so that they have footage for if they ever want to make a deal of some sort."

"Good thinking, Maureen." Collins looked impressed, "Now then who's hungry? Cause I'm starving and there's never food here."

"That's not true!" Mark shot back, "We have food now that we're all working."

"Fine, fine," Collins chuckled, "Lead me to it Almighty Defender of the Flat."

Mark and Collins went into the kitchen, discussing the whereabouts of Benny; from what Maureen had gathered, Benny was rarely home, but he'd only been back 3 times in the 2 months she'd lived there, staying only for one night each visit. Not that Maureen was complaining. The last time he'd been back, he'd made a definitive pass at her.

Roger was still standing by the table, watching her with those blue eyes of his. Maureen tentatively moved around the table so she was in front of him, "Rog." She began.

"Sh." Roger silenced her, "It was uncalled for, but it was necessary." Referring to the Princess comment.

"What are you talking about?"

"Maureen, if I'm suddenly nice to you, don't you think they'll suspect something?"

"Suspect what?" Maureen asked exasperatedly, "Nothing's happened! There's nothing to suspect!"

Roger narrowed his eyes, "So all of this circling each other, the kiss, everything has been nothing?"

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Maureen said softly, "You didn't want to label it so unless you're breaking your word and labeling it as meaning something then nothing happened."

"Guys!" Collins called from the kitchen, "Guys, come here! We found marshmallows!"

Roger held Maureen with his gaze, but she shut her eyes tightly and stepped back, slamming into the table and wincing, "Damn it." She muttered, "Coming Collins!" She called back.

Roger reached for her wrist, but Maureen danced away from him, "Don't." She pleaded then turned on the spot and went into the kitchen where Collins was juggling marshmallows and periodically catching one in his mouth. Roger stayed where he was, calming himself back down then following Maureen's lead, making "nothing happened" his new refrain.

**Michelle, I hope those dividers work better. One Song Glory is my favorite song so I chose random lines from it. BeforeTheSongDies, more things will happen in chapters to come, dun dun dun! Thank you for your reviews, please keep them coming; they keep me a happy girl =0) **


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry it's taken so long! My editor-in-chief has been busy so I'm daring to post a chapter without her guidance…I'm praying there aren't any mistakes. I own nothing, enjoy the workings of my imagination. **

"You know, I think that Rock God of yours exists." Maureen told Roger as they sat in the back of the band's van.

"Really?" Roger raised his eyebrows, "I thought you were…what's that thing called…Agnotic."

"Agnostic?" Maureen giggled, "I am, but we're here playing a huge club so all of your 'praying' must've paid off somehow."

"So now you're…Rockgodstic?"

"Sure, why the hell not?" Maureen sipped her beer.

"How many of those have you had?" Roger laughed.

"Only a few." She shoved him lightly, "I'm allowed to drink. It's all you tonight."

"Gee, thanks for reminding me." Roger muttered.

"Oh come on, are you really nervous?" Maureen asked, looking surprised.

"Maybe…"

"Oh my Rock God, you are capable of normal human emotion?" Maureen squealed and threw her arms around him, "You've come so far, Rog! I'm proud!"

Roger shoved her off of him, laughing.

Sully hopped into the van and sat down next to Maureen, "You're gonna make Max jealous."

"Who the hell is Max?" Maureen released Roger.

"…Your boyfriend?" Sully said slowly.

"You mean Mark?" Roger supplied.

"Oh. Yeah. Him." Sully shrugged, "I was close."

"Yeah, you had the first letter right, go Sully." Maureen teased.

"Whatever, you're gonna make him jealous."

"Of what?" Maureen laughed incredulously, "I was just giving Roger a congratulatory hug."

"That's how it always starts. A 'congratulatory hug' which turns into a congratulatory blow job and before you know it, you're in the midst of a full blown affair which could have been prevented had you just done a congratulatory high-five."

"You're whacked." Maureen shook her head, "Go check your guitar or something."

"Consider that a warning man." Sully said to Roger then hopped out of the van, "Come on, we need to get ready." Then he disappeared inside.

"Well." Maureen tapped her foot against the bottom of the van.

"I should go inside." Roger muttered awkwardly.

"Well," Maureen repeated, "Here's your congratulatory high-five."

Roger laughed and returned the high-five, "But no good luck blow job?" He pouted.

"How about a good luck air kiss?" Maureen suggested.

"Lame." Roger sighed, "But I suppose that works."

Maureen blew him a kiss and Roger fluttered his hands in front of his face, pretending to swoon, "Oh go away you buffoon." Maureen giggled, kicking him lightly.

Roger bowed gallantly then bounded into the club.

Maureen shook her head, laughing at Roger. She slid out of the van and slammed the doors shut. When she turned around, Collins was standing behind her. Like, seriously, right behind her. Maureen shrieked in shock, jumping back against the van, "Holy shit, Collins." She clutched her heart.

Collins was shaking with laughter, "Man, you scare easily."

"I think that was understandable," Maureen was still holding her chest, "I mean, really tall man standing behind you in a dark alley. Come on."

"My apologies." Collins held up his hands, "I will do no such thing again."

"That's all I ask." Maureen laughed, her heart finally beating normally.

"So Maureen." Collins began thoughtfully.

"So Collins." Maureen replied, just as seriously.

"I have this feeling. About you and Roger."

"What about us?" Maureen leaned back against the van, bracing herself.

"Look, Maureen, he's an attractive guy, you're a beautiful girl, you're both rather loud and opinionated…I'm just thinking that maybe you've developed a little desire for one another. Kindred spirits and all."

"Collins, that's absolutely ridiculous!" Maureen tried to sound surprised and annoyed, "I'm dating Mark!"

"So? From what I've learned, stuff like that doesn't matter. It happens all the time and there's nothing wrong with it!"

Maureen raised her eyebrows, "You're condoning cheating?"

"No. I'm saying you have 2 choices: break up with Mark so you can romp about with Roger or suppress your feelings and stay away from him."

"Or I can just walk away from you cause you're talking crazy." Maureen brushed past him.

"Maureen, I'm not judging you or anything. I just want you to think about it. Mark…well…he probably wouldn't hold it against you, I don't think. He's Mark. I think he'd rather you came clean."

"Collins." Maureen ran her fingers through her hair, "I appreciate the advice, but I have nothing to come clean about so please, can we not?"

"Sure." Collins obviously didn't believe her, she could see it in his eyes, but he let it go and walked her inside.

Once they'd split and Collins had gone into the crowd to find Mark, Maureen took a detour into the bathroom and closed herself in a stall, thinking hard. In her heart, Maureen knew that she had to make her choice: Roger or Mark. She felt an attraction to Roger, a pull towards him. He has beautiful eyes and strong arms and, despite the fact that he definitely dyes his hair, he's sexy. Maureen knew that whatever went down between them would be hot and intense, the kind of passion every women searches for; but there was no guarantee it would last.

Mark, on the other hand, was sweet and caring. He too had beautiful eyes and there was something appealing about his richly pale skin. He will love her till the day he dies and take care of her no matter what.

Maureen groaned then got up and left the bathroom, smiling sheepishly at the long line of women bouncing on their feet, trying not to pee themselves. She got to her place in the shadows by the entrance to the stage as Roger and his band began their set. As always, Maureen placed herself so that she could watch what was going on while also dance foolishly to their music. She knew it was the end when the opening chords to their latest song "Angel" began.

"I'm alone, yeah I don't know if I can face the night…" Roger crooned; Maureen could practically hear girls swooning. "I'm in tears and the cryin' that I do is for you. I want your love. Let's break the walls between us, don't make it tough." Maureen stood up and swayed to the song, enjoying the crowd going wild probably as much as the boys on stage did. After a long guitar solo from Sully (_he's probably smirking to himself on stage_ Maureen thought), the end of the song came with Roger's closing line: "Come and save me tonight."

And it was in that moment that Maureen made up her mind.

_One blaze of glory_

Maureen had to wait until the band had disappeared outside for some victory drinks and Mark and Collins had gone to the store to pick up food for the impromptu party back at the flat. In typical rock star fashion, Roger was hamming it up for some pathetic groupies that were far too young for him. Maureen rolled her eyes as she listened to their giggles and squeals. Eventually Roger got bored and came back, grinning at Maureen when he saw her.

"Maureen, we got the slot here! Friday nights! That's prime!" Roger picked her up and spun her around, "And it's all thanks to you!"

Maureen laughed and clung to Roger, waiting for him to put her back down. Once he had, she grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket and pulled him down to her level so that her lips were against his ear, "I changed my mind." She whispered, "Let's do it."

"You mean it it?" Roger pulled away to look her.

"I mean whatever it was that you wanted to do that I pushed you away for. So yeah, I suppose 'it it' works."

Roger smirked wickedly then lifted her up again and slammed her against the wall behind her. Already his lips were at her throat, on her jaw, his hands sliding up her shirt.

Maureen appreciated his eagerness, but she couldn't really do anything with her back against the walls and her legs clamped around his waist so she released her legs and caught herself against the wall.

"Who are you, Cat Woman?" Roger murmured against her hair.

Maureen purred then grabbed his hand and dragged him into a back room where they proceeded to explore each other in ways that neither Maureen nor Roger had ever been explored before. Due to the fact that there were people waiting for them, it had to be quick, but Maureen promised that after Mark passes out that night, she'd go to him.

Outside, Sully, Micah, and Johnny were dancing around, singing David Bowie obnoxiously.

"I can tell why you're the lead singer now." Maureen quipped to Roger, trying to make her hair look slightly less like Medusa's snakes.

"You mean you couldn't figure it out based off my amazing vocals?" Roger pouted.

"Well…that too, I guess." Maureen winked then went over to the boys and forced them into the van so they could go back to the flat.

Later that night, after copious amounts of alcohol, toasting and general yelling, Mark was asleep and Maureen was lying awake next to him. "Mark." She whispered, poking his shoulder. When he didn't wake up, she eased off the mattress and padded out of the room.

Roger was sitting up in bed, his guitar in his arms, as always, "Hey." He whispered.

"Oh hi." Maureen replied, sitting down across from him on the bed, "You waited up for me?"

"It wasn't necessarily by choice." Roger waved his hand in the general area of his crotch.

"Is someone having a problem?" Maureen smirked, pleased to finally have a man desperately wanting her again.

"Maybe. Plus the scratches on my back are throbbing. I think you're poisonous."

"And yet that hasn't kept you from waiting for me." Maureen reached over and took his guitar, gently placing it aside.

"There's nothing wrong with a little pain." Roger defended, "Besides, I'm sure you've got bruises on your back from the wall thing."

"I do indeed. I'm hoping they fade by tomorrow."

"You'll definitely have more bruises by tomorrow, so I wouldn't hope too hard." And with that, Roger pounced, expertly rolling so that she was under him, trapping her, finally taking her just the way he wanted.

**Okay I didn't want to change the rating for the story, so I decided to just imply the sexual explorations. Let me know if you think it was too much or too little since I've written M stories before, but not for ages. PascalIsMyBaby1025, I'm glad you like the story. BeforeTheSongDies, "something" happened! I hope you approve of it! I hoping I can update soon, I'll do my best. Please review. Much thanks! =0)**


	12. Chapter 12

**So sorry I haven't posted in a week, I've been running all over creation. See there's this boy (isn't there always?) and I thought we had a connection, but apparently he didn't see it that way and now I'm rather sad…Anyway, please enjoy this chapter and remember, I own nothing. Oh and I'm still down an editor so forgive me if there are any mistakes. Right…bye!**

Roger enjoyed the sound of Maureen moaning as she writhed beneath him. Roger enjoyed sliding his tongue over the softest, sweetest part of Maureen: the place where her neck and collarbone meet. Roger enjoyed tangling his fingers in her hair…even though she yelled at him every time he did it. Something about how she'll never get it untangled and why can't he ruffle his own hair if he likes doing it so much. Roger did not enjoy watching Maureen flirt with Mark. Nor did he enjoy the feeling of betraying his best friend.

"I think she's the one." Mark confided to Roger as they were walking through the tent city with grocery bags in hand.

"You're just saying that because she's the only girl who's stuck around for more than 2 weeks." Roger snorted.

"Which is why she must be the one! I mean, think about it: it says something if she is still dating me despite my flaws. And she even gets along with you! That's huge! I've never had a girlfriend who's been able to deal with your dramatics."

"My dramatics!" Roger cried out indignantly, "Please, you're dating the Drama Queen of Avenue A!"

"And I'm rooming with the Drama King of New York City." Mark retorted, "That's beside the point."

"I do not appreciate these insults." Roger kicked open the door of the flat, "And you're being ridiculous, it takes a lot more than 3 and a half months to determine if someone is your soul mate."

"I never said she's my soul mate, I think she's the woman I ought to marry."

"You say that to her and she will run faster than you can say proposal."

"Well of course I'm not gonna propose to her, not yet anyway."

Roger felt a new sense of betrayal, this time coming from Mark. He knew it was natural for Mark to talk about Maureen this way, seeing as how she's his girlfriend, but that didn't keep him from feeling the beast otherwise known as jealousy trying to crawl up his throat.

"Hey guys." Maureen smiled at them from her stand point in the living area where she was walking on Collins' back.

"Hey Maureen…what are you doing?" Mark asked as he and Roger set down the groceries.

"Man, I have the ultimate back ache, you don't even know." Collins grunted as Maureen massaged his neck with her toes.

"So you decided to employ my girlfriend as your masseuse?"

"Yup. She was just sitting around, doing nothing so I thought I'd put her to use."

"What's the going rate for a Maureen Johnson Back Massage these days?" Roger threw himself down on the couch.

"For Collins, free. For you, twenty bucks."

"What the hell!" Roger glared at her, "Why?"

"Cause you're way more annoying." She smiled sweetly then leapt off Collins, "And I doubt your back hurts."

"Maybe it does, what with those late nights and all." He gave her a pointed look.

Maureen flushed, "What you do at night is not my concern."

Roger wiggled his eyebrows at her when Mark wasn't looking. Maureen glared at him and nodded her head at Collins, who was listening from his place on the floor.

"Anyway, Maureen I'm gonna need you tonight for band practice." Roger cleared his throat.

"Aw come on," Mark groaned.

"What?" Roger glanced over his shoulder at the pale boy.

"You can't steal her tonight, I have plans!" Mark whined.

"Pookie, you didn't tell me you had plans." Maureen went over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It was gonna be a surprise. I was gonna cook you dinner and stuff." He sighed.

"Aw you're so sweet!" Maureen cooed, "I'm sure Roger and the guys can get by without me for a night."

"I don't know, they're awfully needy." Collins laughed, hauling himself off the floor.

"Well, I have a life outside the band, so they'll have to deal."

Roger clenched his fingers angrily, "Fine, she's right, we don't really need her anyway."

"At least not tonight." Maureen winked at Collins and Mark.

Roger muttered something that sounded mysteriously like "not ever" then grabbed his guitar case and stormed out the flat.

"And he wonders why I call him a Drama King." Mark shook his head.

Maureen tried to laugh it off and sat down so Mark could cook for her.

_Time flies, time dies_

Later that night, when Maureen was cradled in Mark's arms, she tried to rationalize her love affair. She'd contemplated ending things and had almost done so, but every time she went to Roger to try, he'd give her one of his smoldering looks or he'd pull her against him desperately and the words would dry up in her throat. Roger probably expected her to go to him, but she was so warm in Mark's arms and for the first time in a long time, she managed to fall asleep before 3 am.

In the morning, she found a note on the pillow from Mark saying he'd gone out to get some early morning footage and that he loved her and he'd see her tonight. Maureen smiled, relishing in the fact that she finally had a caring boyfriend. She got dressed and went into the living area where Roger was sitting on the floor leaning against the couch, writing what she assumed was a song.

"Morning." She said brightly.

Roger grunted in response.

"You're in a good mood." She teased.

"Late night, you know how I don't do well without sleep."

"Roger, what the hell was up with yesterday. I've told you a million times that Collins suspects something!"

"Maybe I'm tired of this, maybe I want someone to know."

Maureen sank down so she was sitting in front of him, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying this month has been amazing and I'm sick of sneaking around." He tossed his notebook aside and grabbed her, pulling her into his lap.

"Roger." She murmured against his neck, "We have an agreement."

"Fuck that." He growled, crushing his lips against hers.

"Roger." She mumbled against his lips, "Rog."

He ignored her, burying his fingers in her hair so they were locked together.

She hit him in the chest and he finally released her, "Jesus Roger." She winced, massaging her scalp.

"I'm sorry, I just…This is killing me." Roger sighed, leaning away from her.

"You think it's not killing me?" She burst out, "It's always about you, Roger! How you feel, what you think."

"I'm trying. Maureen, I told you I'm not good at relationships. It was why this arrangement was working so nicely."

"So what now? Are you saying you want to end things or are you saying you want more?" She pushed herself off of him and staggered to her feet.

"Both." He gave a humorless laugh, "I want to end this and start something real."

"Roger." Maureen sighed heavily, turning away from him. She felt him get to his feet and pulled her back against his chest.

"You're bored with Mark. I know you are. He's going to propose to you." He hated himself for telling her that, but she deserved to be warned.

"He what?" Maureen wrenched away from him, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Would I lie about that?" He asked quietly.

"Oh god." Maureen gave a hysterical laugh, "Now I've got you wanting a relationship from me and Mark wanting me to marry him, how did I ever get so fucking lucky?"

"Maureen." Roger murmured, crossing the room to her and taking her in his arms, "I understand if you don't want a relationship with me, but this thing with Mark…if you don't want to marry him, you need to let him know…"

"And throw you under the bus at the same time? Roger, if I do that, he'll ask how I found out and I'll have to say you told me and you know Mark, he'll want to know why we were talking about it."

"You're a good actress, you can make something up." Roger ran his hands down her back.

"When did life become so fucking complicated?" Maureen sighed, resting her head against Roger's chest.

"Probably when you moved to New York City. Complications tend to happen here." Roger supplied.

Maureen giggled against him, "I suppose that makes sense."

He ducked his head down to hers and captured her mouth with his, teasing her lips with his teeth, trailing his fingers down her neck, doing everything she loved to convince her to choose him.

Before anything could happen beyond kissing, the door flew open and in came Collins.

Roger and Maureen leapt away from each other, "It's not what you think." Maureen hastened to say as Roger half-yelled, "This isn't what it looks like."

"Guys…" Collins muttered hoarsely, "Guys." He staggered into the flat and collapsed onto the couch.

"Collins?" Maureen asked, kneeling down in front of him, "Collins, what's wrong?"

"Guys." Collins croaked again, holding up a piece of paper with shaking hands "I have HIV."

**Dun dun dun! Cliff hanger! Let me know if this is getting lengthy, cause I already have the ending written, but I thought I should add in Collins' condition. As always, please give me some feedback because I'm a girl with a broken heart =0( **


	13. Chapter 13

**Ha! I updated much quicker than last time! This chapter is mostly focused on Collins, I'll have to figure out how to splice both plot lines together in the future, but I thought my dearest boy needed his own chapter so enjoy! Oh and I own nothing. **

In the moments post Collins' revelation, everyone had gone through various stages of reaction. Roger had instantly shut down, sitting on the couch with his guitar, his fingers nowhere near the strings. Maureen had thrown her arms around Collins, but he stepped back, "I'm diseased." He turned away from her.

Maureen began to cry, "Collins, you aren't diseased."

"Yes I am, Maureen." He brandished the paper at her, "I took a blood test."

"I know…but that doesn't make you a leper." She reached for him again, but he moved away from her again.

"I don't want to touch anyone." He shook his head, "Just in case."

"Collins, that's absolutely ridiculous!" Maureen cried desperately, "Please don't push me away."

Collins sighed heavily and sat opposite Roger on the couch, "I just need some time to think…" He cradled his head in his hands.

"I'm going to do everything I can." Maureen assured him, "Everything will be alright."

"There's no cure." Roger said quietly, "There's stuff you can do to deal with it, but you can't get rid of it."

Maureen glared daggers at Roger, "Don't say that. Don't you dare say that right now."

"Maureen, he's right." Collins looked up at her, tears in his eyes, "It's only a matter of time."

Maureen's knees gave out and she sank to the ground, pulling her legs to her chest. She was _not_ going to lose one of the only friends she'd ever had, "Roger may not believe in you, but I have faith." She promised Collins lowly.

"It's not a matter of beliefs or faith!" Roger threw his guitar aside and stood up, "It is how it is! Nothing you can do will change that."

"He's your friend, how can you stand there and say all of this in front of him!"

"Would you rather I lie like you are right now?" Roger smirked, "I'm not gonna do that to him."

"Enough!" Collins got to his feet, "Enough, both of you!" Collins was shaking, "Maureen, I appreciate this, but he has a point. This is just something I have to accept…" His face crumbled and he turned away, trying to hide his tears. Maureen crossed to him slowly and pulled him into her arms as best she could considering the significant height difference. This time, Collins sagged against her and finally broke down with his head resting on top of hers.

Mark came in that moment, grinning happily, "Hey guys!" He began, but abruptly stopped when he saw Collins and Maureen, "Guys, what's going on?"

_Before the virus takes control, glory_

"I hadn't really felt good for a few months, but I figured it was just a persistent strain of the flu. It wasn't until a friend of mine had been diagnosed that it crossed my mind. But the thing was, I hadn't had any…romantic interludes with him and I've always been careful. Then a couple other people…guys and girls, mind you, started getting sick and went to get tested and most of them came back positive. After that, we all agreed to go to the clinic, just in case, you know? Anyway, I got tested a few weeks back and…well…you know the rest." Collins finished his story.

It was hours later. Mark and Maureen had gone out and picked up soup and tea and whatever else they thought might help then they'd gathered in a tight circle as if their closeness could make this any less painful.

"You should've seen the way they looked at me…the nurse was nice enough, but once I'd gone out into the main waiting room of the clinic so I could fill out more paperwork, I heard people muttering to themselves…I even heard someone say I had GRID."

"GRID?" Maureen tilted her head to the side.

"It's an old school term for HIV/Aids." Roger explained, "Completely inappropriate."

"Oh…what does it-"

"Gay-related immune deficiency." The boys replied in unison.

"That's, that's horrible!" Maureen sputtered, "Why would they say that?"

"Because back in the day, when all of this was just starting, it was prevalent in the gay community so people coined all sorts of lovely names for it. Such as gay cancer, gay compromise syndrome and GRID." Collins sighed wearily.

"But…there are straight people who get it!" Maureen was completely outraged.

"I know darling," Collins shook his head, "Once more straight people were diagnosed and it became apparent that it could also be spread via needles, they stopped calling it that."

"Not that that made much of a difference. President Reagan even came out and said there was no such thing as aids despite the fact that people all over the world were dying."

"This is absolutely disgusting." Maureen look appalled.

"The good news is non-government organizations came out with information and pamphlets and posters and crap." Roger continued.

"Then some doctor from the CDC or whatever released this thing with a French guy saying that 'HTLV-III' was causing Aids."

"And after that, people started getting on board with the whole thing and eventually it was renamed HIV."

"Oh and Reagan came out and covered his ass, saying he had been involved for years. When Rock Hudson died of 'aids-related illness,' they government finally released reports to the public."

"Yeah and Larry Kramer founded ACT UP as a fuck you to the government." Mark finished.

"So did they find some sort of vaccine?" Maureen was impressed by the boys' knowledge of HIV.

"Yeah a few years back, they released this drug known as AZT that is said to slow the progression of HIV. So it's not really a vaccine so much as a life preserver. There are always rumors about new stuff coming out, but this is the only thing available."

"Most people just off themselves when they found out." Roger added then blushed, "I didn't think before I said that…" He muttered.

Maureen and Mark glared at him, but Collins burst out laughing, "He has a point. HIV is just a slow way of dying."

"How long?" Maureen asked, her voice cracking.

"Hard to say really. Could be a few months, could be a few years." Collins tried to sound blasé, but they could see through it, however no one commented on it.

"I must say, I'm impressed by this history lesson." Maureen decided to move on.

"I don't know what Blonde and Blonder's excuses are for knowing this shit, but I read a bunch of pamphlets while I was in the waiting room."

"Which ones Blonde and which ones Blonder?" Mark looked slightly offended.

"I think it's safe to say you're Blonder." Roger rolled his eyes.

"At least I'm a natural blonde." Mark muttered.

"Hey enough with the bleach jokes!" Roger whined.

"Boys, boys," Collins chastised.

"When do you get this ABC thing?" Maureen turned away from the boys to Collins.

"AZT, Maureen, AZT." Mark corrected, laughing.

"Whatever, when do you get it?"

"They said to go back tomorrow so yeah, tomorrow." Collins nodded.

"Well, no more going off into yonder, you're staying here at night from now on." Maureen determined.

"Aw come on, Mom." Collins pouted.

"Collins, you have a low immune system! Lord knows what you could catch out there!"

Collins rolled his eyes at her, "So I'm supposed to spend the rest of my damned life in this apartment?"

"You can go out during the day cause you work, but I want you home at night." Maureen amended.

"You can come with us to band rehearsal at night if you want." Roger offered.

"That would definitely send him to an early grave." Maureen muttered to herself.

"I heard that." Roger shoved her shoulder.

"That is abuse." Maureen shoved him back.

"And that is immature retaliation." Roger retorted.

"You started it!"

"Yeah, but you didn't even bother to take the higher road and ignore me!"

"This could go on all night." Mark said conversationally to Collins.

"Believe me, I'm aware." Collins got to his feet, "Well I suppose since I'm on house arrest, I might as well just go to bed."

Maureen and Roger shut up, "Do you feel okay?" She asked concernedly.

"If you ask me that more than twice a day, I will slap you. I feel fine. For the time being anyway." He added quietly.

"Collins was right when he said it's slow acting, Maureen." Mark squeezed her knee, "He probably won't show any symptoms at all for a few years."

"Then bam, I'll be dead." Collins tried to joke, but it fell flat, "Anyway…good night guys." He waved and went off to his room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"I've never felt more useless in my entire life." Maureen groaned.

"The best we can do is keep him happy and keep him healthy. You know, everyone always says to live like you're dying." Roger patted her shoulder awkwardly.

"Yeah, but that's easier to say when you're not actually dying." Maureen pushed her hair out of her face.

"I'm gonna go to bed, too." Mark decided, "I was up early this morning…and this evening's taken a lot out of me. You two should consider going to bed as well. It's been a long night." Mark leaned down and kissed Maureen sweetly then disappeared into his room.

Maureen waited until Mark's light went off then crawled into Rogers lap and buried her face against his neck, finally breaking down and crying, "I can't believe earlier all I cared about was my relationships between you and Mark…it all seems so mundane now."

"Sh…" Roger stroked her back, "A. Mark might hear you and B. I know, I feel selfish."

Maureen leaned back and used Roger's shirt to wipe her eyes, "Well there's a first, you're actually admitting to selfishness."

"You best buy me a new shirt."

"Oh honestly, it's just water!"

"With make up in it! Look, there are black stains!"

"…you're wearing a black shirt…"

"I know that, but I can see them."

Maureen rolled her eyes.

"You just spread mascara up to your eyebrows." Roger snorted then took his shirt and pulled it up to wipe it off.

"Well, that was contradictory to your hissy fit." Maureen smiled.

"I figured it was already ruined and since you're buying me a new one anyway…"

"I am not buying you a new shirt! From now on I'm splitting my money between rent and Collins."

"Well buy him a new shirt, but accidentally get the wrong size."

"I knew your lack of selfishness would be short lived." She sighed and shook her head, "I should just go to bed, my eyes are itchy."

"If you've got that conjunctashit, I will kill you."

"It's from crying you moron!" She got out of his lap and pulled him to his feet.

Roger enveloped her in his arms again, subtly kissing her neck, "It's all going to be alright."

"That's easy to say now, but when Collins is actually dying, it won't be."

"We will cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Oh sure now you're positive."

"I'm saying this for your benefit. I don't believe any of it, but I'm trying to be sensitive."

"Aw Rog, you do care about me."

Roger locked eyes with her, "Was there ever any doubt?"

Maureen bit her lip then stepped away from him, "Good night Roger. We need to talk tomorrow because I have some new offers from other clubs I want to go over with you before rehearsal."

"Right." Roger mirroring her professional manner. "Good night." She stepped past him then turned at the door and blew him a kiss before sliding quietly into the darkness.

Instead of going to his room, Roger sat down on his bed and cradled his head in his hands much like Collins had earlier, finally allowing himself to cry for his friend.

**Okay so some of those HIV facts may be off and I don't actually know when this was set, I'm guessing around like 1987 or 1988, but I might be wrong. I got my info from ****.****. It's all very interesting, I recommend visiting that site sometime. Anyway, thank you for my review, I'd like more than just one this time around if that's possible. Please and thank you =0) **


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry for not updating! I've been so wrapped up in other things then it got friggen hot and I couldn't muster up the energy to do anything so yeah, here you go. I promise I'll work harder on the next chapter, I'm currently rewriting the ending in my head and it's a bit disconcerting because it changes almost everything I was planning. Anyway, I own nothing so enjoy!**

"I got you cookies, sweetie." Maureen tossed the package into Collins' lap.

"Why?" He laughed, ripping open the package, "I thought you were only giving me those anti-oxidant food things."

"Well…I thought you should have something delicious. And those cookies are freaking amazing." She threw her stuff down on the table then pulled out her notebook and curled up on the couch.

After a few minutes of the scratching of her pen, Collins rolled over to her and flopped his head onto her notebook, "Whatcha writing?"

"I'm recording dates for the band." She shoved his head off her notebook.

"You're quite dedicated to this job." Collins observed.

"Well, what did you expect? It's my job, I have to be good at it."

"Nah, at this point the boys have figured it out, you could totally slack off."

"I happen to enjoy the business aspect…kind of. Except for those dumbass sexists who are only interested in your tits and ass."

"I love tits and ass." Roger sighed dreamily, coming into the flat, "Whose tits and ass are we talking about?"

"Maureen's." Collins replied drily.

"Oh. Well in that case, never mind."

"Excuse you!" Maureen glared at him, "I happen to have exceptional anatomy!"

"Sure ya do, Princess." Roger snorted, getting a beer out of the kitchen and sitting down on the table.

Collins cut off Maureen's retort quickly, "Have you ever noticed that we don't have chairs at that table?"

"What?" Maureen and Roger said in unison, both looking around the table.

"Dude…we really don't." Maureen laughed.

"Dude," Roger teased, "You're right."

"Why don't we have chairs?"

"Probably couldn't afford them at the time." Collins shrugged, "Besides, now we all just sit on the table."

"We're seriously lacking in furniture in general." Maureen remarked, finally noticing this.

"Who needs it anyway?" Roger laughed, "We don't need material goods. We have everything we need."

"Yeah, cause it's spring and we don't have to worry about heat."

"Shut up and enjoy the warm weather, Maureen."

"Just wait till July." Collins chuckled, "Then you'll wish it were winter."

"Oh dear Lord, I hadn't thought of that." Maureen looked slightly horrified, "We're buying fans."

"Only if you're willing to pay the electric bill." Roger sipped his beer.

"Fine. We have the money now." Maureen thought to herself about the fact that she'd had the money all along.

"It should be put towards more practical things, though."

"Yeah, like pizza and beer!" Collins grinned at Maureen.

"You are so not eating pizza, mister." Maureen shot a look at him.

"Come on, Maureen, can't you let him enjoy the time he has left in this world?" Roger pouted.

Maureen shook her head, "If we keep his health up long enough, maybe they'll find a cure." She insisted.

"Not damn likely." Collins sighed, stretching out on the couch again. In the month since they'd found out about his condition, Roger and Collins had chosen to joke about it rather than fret; needless to say, Maureen did not approve. Mark was torn between the two, wishing desperately to find it humorous, but wanting to be supportive of Maureen.

"Okay well I must be off." Maureen got off the couch and went into her room to change.

"Where's she going?" Roger mouthed to Collins.

"I dunno." Collins shut his eyes, "What's it to you?"

"Well we had band stuff to do…" Roger lied to cover his ass.

Maureen came back out wearing a low cut navy dress and spike yellow heels.

When Collins heard her clacking across the floor he sat up and opened his eyes, "Damn smoky." He whistled, "You going to a red carpet event or something?"

Maureen twirled and winked at him, "Actually I'm meeting Mark's mother and sister."

"You still haven't met them?" Collins raised his eyebrows.

"It's not like they're chomping at the bit to come to this place." She cast a look around the barren flat, "And we don't have the means to get to them…well I mean we could if we wanted to, but we don't want to so yeah."

"Okay then," Collins laughed, "Have fun then." He smiled at her then lay back down.

Maureen kissed his forehead then turned to find Roger staring at her.

"You, uh, yeah you, um, look…nice." Roger stammered out, staring at her legs.

"Eyes up here, bucko." She pointed to her own eyes.

After a quick staring contest, he batted his eyelashes at her, causing her to throw her head back and laugh, "Don't wait up for me, lover boy."

"You're going to dinner with Mark's obnoxious family, do you really think you'll be out all night?"

"I'm hoping to hit a bar afterwards…cleanse the soul, ya know?" She nudged him lightly with her elbow and made to move past him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her against him so he could kiss her quickly and silently. She glared at him and jerked her head at Collins then relented and smiled at him, "Bye loser."

"Bye Princess." Roger called back sarcastically then watched her shapely butt twitch under the fabric of her dress as she tottered out the door.

_From the pretty boy front man who waste opportunity…_

Maureen arched her back beneath Roger's body and sighed. It was almost 6 in the morning. She and Mark had gotten back around 2 then both had collapsed into a wine induced coma. Roger had waited up for them in his room and shortly after 3, he'd crept into Mark's room and coaxed Maureen into his bed.

"Baby," Maureen murmured against Roger's shoulder, tasting salt on her lips.

"What?" He muttered, still moving on top of her, inside of her.

Suddenly Maureen threw her head back and Roger quickly covered her mouth with his to stifle her moan. Several minutes of trembling and clinging to each other later, Roger finally rolled off of her and Maureen pressed herself against his damp chest.

"You were saying?" Roger grinned, slightly out of breath.

"Mark's gonna get up soon," Maureen panted, "I need to get back to him."

"Shit…" Roger glanced at the clock, "You should probably shower first."

"Yeah, I reek of you." She teased, motivating herself to get out of bed and, on wobbling legs, pull a shirt on and padded silently into the bathroom for a quick shower. As always, she pulled her hair back so it would still be dry. Maureen was nothing if not practical.

She had just slid into bed and shut her eyes when Mark's alarm went off and he groped around to shut it off.

"Sorry, didn't want to wake you up." He apologized, his voice husky from sleep.

Maureen pretended to look around groggily, "Mm, s'okay…" She mumbled.

Mark leaned over and kissed her temple then got out of bed to get ready for another long day of filming. Maureen sighed happily and rolled over, finally drifting off after a long night.

_Glory, in the eyes of a young girl_

That night, Maureen made her way through the club, flashing her "VIP" badge at the beefy ex-football player guarding the backstage door. She walked up to Micah and Sully, who were joking around about the jail bait lurking in the back alley.

"Hey Maureen," Micah laughed, "How young is too young for you?"

"I'm not into the cougar thing." Maureen winked.

"Well if you were a guy, then what?" Sully amended.

"If I were a guy, I'd probably jack off once just to see what it's like then go get a sex change as fast as possible." Maureen smiled to herself as she listened to their laughter following her. She rounded the corner and froze when she saw Roger entwined around a little blonde girl. Maureen cleared her throat loudly and obnoxiously and they jumped apart.

"Oh hey Maureen." Roger rubbed the back of his head awkwardly and glanced at the girl.

"I, um…yeah, I'm gonna leave." The girl mumbled, shooting one last lust-filled look at Roger before fleeing.

"So, that's what they were referring to." Maureen shook her head, trying not to be angry.

"Look, are you mad at me?" Roger asked, crossing over to her, "Cause that'd be a double standard."

Maureen snorted, "Please," she lied, "Like I care who you do on the side."

"I think you do care. And just so you know, I haven't 'done' anyone on the side. I'm a hell of a lot more committed to you than you are to me."

"I have a boyfriend!" Maureen hissed, "You knew that already."

"Yeah, I'm aware, Maureen. I'm aware every minute of everyday." Roger said wearily, running a hand down his face, "So let me get this straight: you can be with Mark and still fuck me, but I can't even look at another girl?"

"Did I say that?" Maureen narrowed her eyes at him, "Do whatever the hell you want, I don't give a shit." She turned on her heel and marched away only to walk into Sully, "Uh hey…" Maureen mumbled nonchalantly.

"Hey," Sully scrutinized her carefully.

"Uh, we're all set for the night. I'm…I don't feel good, I'm gonna leave now. You guys can handle the packing..." She stepped around him.

"I heard, you know." Sully called over his shoulder.

Maureen froze, but didn't turn around.

"It's not cool, what you're doing, Maureen. Just pick one and make our lives easier."

"_Your_ lives?" Maureen snorted, "What does any of this have to do with you."

"If you pick Mark, then Roger gets to write angry 'I hate women songs' that will attract a manlier audience. If you choose him, he'll write love songs and, even better, sex songs that will win over both women and men. So for us, it's a win-win situation, but it'd be nice if you guys could figure out whether you're together or not; this whole 'secret' affair thing is getting old." Then Sully nodded and disappeared out the door.

Maureen shook her head angrily and stormed out of the building. She burst into the apartment and threw herself down on the couch beside Collins who was playing with a rubber band and a bouncy ball.

"Something bothering you, dear?" Collins asked after 5 minutes of her huffing.

"Men. Men are bothering me, Collins. I think I'm going to become a lesbian, because men drive me nuts." She ranted, "How do you stand dating men, I mean really, they are horrible, horrible creatures who cheat on you and act like they love you then break your heart and God it's just fucking ridiculous."

"Mark cheated on you?" Collins accidentally launched the ball across the room with the rubber band only to have it bounce back and smack Maureen in the collarbone, "Oh shit…" Collins mumbled.

Maureen looked down at the red mark rapidly developing on her chest then started laughing.

"Oh shit." Collins repeated.

Maureen was rolling around on the couch, utterly hysterical.

"Maureen, girl, you gotta calm down." Collins grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, "You hear me?" Collins shook her again, then channeling his inner Cher shouted, "SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Immediately Maureen stopped laughing. She was silent for a minute then began sobbing.

"Oh shit…" Collins sighed, pulling her into his arms and cradling her against his giant chest to wait out her tears.

**I love Collins. I want a Collins in my life. Anyway, poor Roger…and Maureen…and Collins. So as I said before, I'm changing the ending a smidge so now I have to recalculate everything. I hope you guys liked this chapter, please review it! Oh and I recommend listening to the song If It Kills Me by Jason Mraz since every time I write a chapter, I get the song stuck in my head and it's an awesome tune. Okay, I'm done now. Bye! **


	15. Chapter 15

**So I don't own anything and yet again I apologize for taking forever to update! **

Maureen woke up with a head ache and what felt like sand paper rubbing between her eyelids. She looked around and realized that she wasn't in Mark or Roger's bed. "God, this is like high school all over again…" She muttered to herself, hauling her ass out of the bed and stumbling to the door. She paused when she heard raised voices.

"I can't believe you've been cheating on her! All this time I thought…well it doesn't matter now. What the fuck were you thinking, man?" She heard Collins yelling.

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about! I've never cheated on anyone in my whole life!" Came Mark's angry reply.

"Shit, shit, shit." Maureen mumbled, realizing that Collins must have deduced that Mark cheated on her…_Which makes sense, since technically I'm dating Mark…shit._

"Then why did Maureen come home hysterical today going on about how horrible men are for cheating?" Collins asked incredulously, his anger waning slightly.

"I have absolutely no clue." Mark yelled in exasperation, "I really don't appreciate being accused of all of this!"

"Sorry man, but you have to assume that when I girl freaks out about a guy cheating, the guy in question is typically her boyfriend…unless…"

"Unless?"

"Well, I mean, could she…you know?"

"Be having an affair?" Mark laughed, "Are you kidding me, Maureen loves me!"

"Yeah I know, but sometimes that's just not enough…"

"Wait a second, what do you know?" The pacing Maureen had heard stopped.

"I, uh, know nothing." Collins declared untruthfully.

Maureen vowed that if Collins could dissuade Mark that there was no affair, she would marry him regardless of his sexuality. _Which would mean that I'd have a boyfriend, a cad and a husband._ She thought, slightly amused and mostly horrified by the thought.

"You're a shitty liar. Is there something going on I don't know about?"

"Nope. Nothing." Collins replied.

"You know, you two have gotten awfully close in the last month or so," Mark pointed out, sounding suspicious.

"Boy you trippin'!" Collins snorted.

"I've seen you two kissing each other and calling each other names."

"We're _friends_, Mark. I'm gay, remember?"

"'Gay, not dead.'" Mark parroted.

"Yeah, when it comes to looking at women. I promise I have had no sexual relations with a woman since I was 16."

Maureen leaned against the door heavily, feeling the guilty bubbling up her throat.

"If not you, then who?" Mark asked dejectedly.

Maureen decided to come into the room then, having determined she would work her hardest at lying and make it up to Collins for doing so later. However, that didn't work out for her because Roger chose that moment to walk in the door and the two men spotted him before they noticed her. _Well, at least that's a first._ Maureen thought to herself wearily.

"_You," _Mark muttered angrily, "It's been you all along hasn't it!"

Roger froze and stared at all of them, "What?"

"You're the one who's been banging Maureen!" Mark threw his head back and laughed, "I should've known all along, the way you two pretend to hate each other. This whole time, you've been using your charms to seduce her, you wrapped her around your finger and now you're making money every week and getting laid. It was a package deal!" 

"You're crazy." Roger snorted, glancing surreptitiously at Maureen then throwing his stuff down.

"Yeah? Well, you're a liar and an asshole." Mark shot back.

"Don't be stupid, Mark, I'm not boning your girlfriend."

"You were jealous that I finally had something you didn't." All of Mark's insecurities were pouring out. Collins and Maureen had both backed as far away as possible.

"I've never been jealous of you, Mark." Roger lied coldly, "Especially not of the women you latch yourself so desperately onto."

That did it for Mark. With a primitive cry, he threw himself at Roger, tackling him to the ground and punching him with all his might. Roger quickly got over the surprise of Mark's outburst and shoved the smaller man off of him. When Mark made to have another go, Collins grabbed him.

Maureen ran over to Roger to help him to his feet, "Are you okay?" She asked, lightly touching her finger to the blood on his lip.

"Fine." Roger muttered gruffly, rubbing at the black eye rapidly developing.

"So it's true." Mark was laughing, looking positively manic, "It's true, you are having an affair."

"Mark, please." Maureen rushed towards him, but he lashed out and Collins hauled him away again.

"You're my best friend, Rog." Mark panted at him, "And you did this."

"Mark," Maureen begged, "Let's just talk this over, okay?"

"I didn't do it alone." Roger said quietly, "You can't pin all of this on me."

"He's right, Mark, it was a mistake." Maureen gushed.

Any hurt that Roger felt was hidden behind his cold and blank stare, "I guess everything's over then?"

"Roger, we both knew it-" Maureen began, but he cut her off.

"Mark?" He redirected.

"Get the fuck out of my flat."

"Come on, Mark." Collins jumped in, "This is _our_ flat. We're all friends here."

"We were friends." Mark corrected icily, "Until he tried to steal my girlfriend." 

"Fuck this." Roger burst out, pushing past all of them and haphazardly packing up his clothes, "Fuck this whole thing. You can sit there and pretend like she's fucking perfect and that I caused everything, but just so you know, _she_ came onto _me._ It takes two to tango, Marky, isn't that what they always say." He chuckled, moving past them to the door and grabbing his guitar, "As for you," He turned to Maureen, "You can go ahead like your little boyfriend and pretend like this was nothing, but I will always know the truth. I'll always remember what you said to me at night when we were bathed in moonlight and no one else was around. There's a reason she came to me, Mark." He called to him. "Collins…" Roger sighed, suddenly looking much older than he actually was, "I'm sorry." He said simply.

Collins stepped forward, "Man, don't go."

Roger just shook his head sadly then turned on his heel and disappeared into the night.

_Truth like a blazing fire_

"I don't know which makes me feel worse," Maureen sighed, taking a pull from her beer, "Lying to you or lying to Mark."

"Well," Collins began, "You should feel worse about lying to Mark since you were cheating on him, but you continually lied directly to me. Every time I questioned you about it, you denied me, which is pretty bad. I mean, you deceived Mark. You out right lied to me."

"Gee, thanks hon, make me feel even worse."

"I hate to say it, but I told you to do something about this ages ago. I told you to pick one of them before this all went to hell." Collins reminded her.

"I suppose I deserve this guilt trip you're sending me on?"

"Yup." Collins nodded then grinned at her, "They'll both come around…eventually."

"Really?" Maureen didn't believe him at all, "Has this sort of thing happened before?"

"Well, no…not really, but Roger's run away before!" He added brightly.

"Yeah, but has Mark ever told him to leave first?"

"Uh…no." Collins shook his head, "But he always came back."

"Yeah, but-"

"Enough!" Collins cut her off, "Girl you need to chill the hell out for a little while."

Maureen snorted and shook her head as Mark came back into the room.

"He's gone." He confirmed shortly, disappearing inside of his and Maureen's room.

Maureen's body crumpled in defeat. Collins was watching her carefully, "You know…you could change all of this now. If you want to be with Roger, then you should leave. If you want to be with Mark, you need to stop sulking and go make it up to him."

"I don't really know what I want." Maureen admitted softly, "I took for granted having both of them because there are different things I like about their personalities and stuff and now I'll have to choose…" She sighed.

"You better stop feeling sorry for yourself." Collins warned, "You've been lying to all of us. You know, most people can figure out the person they want to be with without causing mass destruction!"

"Yeah, but-"

"No more 'yeah, buts!' Seriously Maureen." Collins shook his head angrily, "You've just broken Roger's black heart, you've broken Mark's naïve trust and you've been lying to your friend who is dying slowly, but surely. If anyone should feel sorry for themselves, it's us so pull yourself together all ready!" Then he went into his own room.

Maureen stared at the floor for a long time until Mark came into the room and slowly crossed over to her. He knelt down in front of her and cupped her cheeks in his hands then kissed her forehead. Maureen burst into tears because she'd been cheating on one of the nicest, most trusting men in the world. Wordlessly, he pulled her to her feet and helped her into his bed and with Mark's arms wrapped around her, Maureen finally fell asleep.

**As I said in the previous chapter, I've rewritten the ending. It's much more indulgent on my part, so bear with me. Anyway, I'm not going to have a laptop for a few days (technically, I'm supposed to be going to drop this one off right now, but sh no one has to know) so yeah I won't be working on this for a little while, but the end is in sight! Only a few more chapters. So thank you to everyone who's been reviewing all along, I truly appreciate. Please, keep reviewing until the end, thank you! **


	16. Chapter 16

**I don't think this is the best chapter, but I needed to establish some things so I could wrap it up. Anyway, I own nothing, I hope you like it.**

Roger's band wouldn't return any of Maureen's calls. She'd been trying to contact them for a few weeks to see if they needed help, to see if they still needed her, to see what happened to Roger. _Guess I'm out of a job_ Maureen thought to herself.

Nothing mattered anymore. She'd never realized how boring her life had been before she'd met Roger. She never realized how sheltered her life was and how little she'd experienced. Her months working with Roger's band had taught her a lot about alternative lifestyles and her affair with Roger taught her that any previous beliefs she'd had about love were false. She knew now that she loved Roger; that she didn't love Mark; that she could never love Mark. And that broke her heart.

Maureen was back in a rut, and it didn't even matter that she had a boyfriend, because he wasn't the right one.

_He had the world at his feet_

Roger sighed heavily and turned away from the stage. They were waiting to go on for their set. He was bored. Maureen had always amused him with her running commentary on the "skankies" out in the front rows of the crowd. Even the rest of the band seemed a little deflated.

"I never thought I'd miss the presence of estrogen," Sully commented to him.

"You'll get over it," Roger replied gruffly.

Sully held up his hands, "Just saying, man. You could at least let us return her calls."

"We're doing just fine without her, no need to bring her back in."

"You're being stupid." Sully said point blank.

"Nobody asked you," Roger moved away from him angrily. _As if I need reminding that my life officially sucks again._

They were told to head onto the stage and Roger wearily followed his band mates, already ready for the show to be over. Maureen had even sucked the fun out of music and he hated her for it.

Later that night, Roger was sitting on the edge of his bed in the crappy apartment he was squatting in. A girl whose name he did not know was slowly stripping in front of him. She probably thought she looked sexy, but in Roger's opinion, she just looked foolish; young girls have stupid ideas of what's hot and what's not.

As she straddled him, he pictured Maureen; as she began to rock against him, he could smell Maureen's hair brushing against his face; when she clenched her entire body against him, he closed his eyes and imagined himself to be anywhere but in that bed with some girl he didn't know. This was his life. _Damn you, Maureen fucking Johnson._

_One song to redeem this empty life…_

Collins slid into the booth across from Roger, "Dude, you look like shit."

"Thanks man, good to see you too," Roger rolled his eyes.

After a week of Collins harassing him, Roger had agreed to meet him at a dingy diner for coffee.

"So," Collins began, trying to sound breezy, "How's things?"

Roger gave him a look that screamed 'how the fuck do you think things are?'

"Well, all things considered, things are going pretty well for me. I'm still working at the University and Maureen's still keeping me on lock down at night. I wish she'd at least let me go see my friends before they all…die." He stared into his coffee mug.

"How many of your friends have been diagnosed?" Roger glossed over the M word.

"Enough." Collins answered gruffly, "Let's talk about nice things."

Roger raised his eyebrows, "Have we ever had nice things to say?"

"Maybe now's the time to start!" Collins grinned, "My condition is going great. I'm fairly certain I'm not gonna die anytime soon. I wish I could go out with some guys, because I'm tired of being a recluse. Mark refuses to speak to me, though I'm not sure why since I'm trying to be Switzerland and…I've lost some weight." He finished proudly.

"What, did you go on a diet?" Roger laughed.

"Yup. It's called HIV. It's all the rage right now. Plus, Maureen's only giving me those antiperspirant things that are supposedly good for me."

"You mean antioxidants? Or do you have some glandular problem I'm unaware of…"

"Whatever Dude, you know what I meant," Collins laughed.

Roger rolled his eyes and chuckled, "Man, I miss hanging out with you. It's been awhile since I've had a reason to laugh.

"Well, you could come home…" Collins said casually.

"I don't exactly think I'm welcome." Roger smirked slightly.

"You could at least try," Collins leaned forward, "Life sucks there. Mark is moody all the time, Maureen just mopes, it's like someone died. I don't need that right now. I need an ally; I need someone else to talk to."

Roger just shook his head, "You know I can't. Besides, that sounds absolutely horrible and I can't think of why I'd want to deal with that."

"You can't just give up! You can't just be miserable for the rest of your life."

Roger stood up and threw some money down on the table, "I'm afraid that's not your decision." He turned on his heel and left.

Collins groaned and tilted back in his seat. Suddenly he toppled over backwards and landed flat on his back with his legs in the air, "I hate my fucking life…"

That same night, Maureen snuck past Collins' sleeping form on the couch. She knew she should probably stay and wake him up every hour since he hit his head so hard, but this was important to her. She'd scourged the area for band posters and had figured out where Roger's band was playing that night. Mark was out of town for the night for some family thing and she probably wasn't going to get another opportunity like this.

She arrived on the scene and remembered why she had avoided clubs so much when she was younger. Too much noise, too much chaos, too much cleavage and BO and skeevy guys. She grimaced as an aforementioned skeevy guy leered at her then shoved her way to the front of the crowd. Maureen had contemplated charming her way into the back to actually talk to the guys, but she figured being in the crowd was risky enough.

Roger and the boys took over the stage to thunderous applause; they had certainly taken off in the last few months. Maureen didn't move to the music, didn't sing along, she just stared up at Roger and willed him to look down. This was the first time she'd seen him since that horrible night and she was going to take in as much as possible while she still could.

Halfway through the last song, Roger finally glanced down and froze because Maureen fucking Johnson was in the crowd watching him intently. His fingers slipped over the strings and his voice gave out for just a moment, but he quickly turned away from her and walked away, pretending to be going over to Sully to play next to him. _I can't believe she had the nerve to come here_ he seethed to himself.

As soon as the song was over, Maureen pushed her way back through the crowd and out into the sultry air. Summer was definitely on the way, which was a blessing and a curse. Her Nana had always said that people lost all sense of fashion once the warm weather came and she was right. Maureen watched a girl in a low cut tube top and one of those God awful micro miniskirts flounce past her and shuddered. Turning, Maureen began her long walk home.

"Who do you think you are, coming here?" Roger shouted.

Maureen wheeled around, "It's a free country, I can go where ever I want to go!"

"You lost the right to be with us when you told Mark."

"I told Mark absolutely nothing, he figured it out on his own. And you can't take any rights away from me."

Roger crossed to her and grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him and out of the street.

"Get your damn hands off of me!" She shrieked, pushing against him.

"That's not what you said all those nights you crawled into my bed." He growled to her.

"Get away from me, Roger!" Maureen fought against him.

Roger laughed at her pathetic efforts.

"What the hell happened to you?" Maureen gasped, giving up on fighting him, "What's wrong with you?"

"You happened to me," He slammed her against the brick wall behind her, "Because of you, I've lost my apartment and my best friend."

"Poor baby." Maureen spat out, finally breaking free, "I hope you burn in hell, Roger, I truly do. Because only a real man would realize that you did this to yourself." She bit back a sob and fled from him.

That night, Roger sat on the edge of his bed again, twirling the needle between his fingers. He slowly filled the needle up and deliberately pushed it into his skin, savoring the pain and tension he felt against his arm. He felt the drug spread through him and, just like he had every night since Maureen had rejected him, fell back against the pillows to wait out the inevitable feeling of being gone.

**Next chapter, I'm hoping big things will happen, but I needed a chapter to establish how much life sucks and Roger's drug problems and blah blah blah. So I hope you enjoyed this chapter and have the ability to forgive the shortness of it. Please review? Please? Thank you! **


	17. Chapter 17

I own nothing.

It had been two weeks since Maureen had fled from Mark's apartment. She'd left a note on his pillow:

_ Dear Mark (and Collins), _

_I'm so sorry to do this. Yes, I had an affair with Roger. Yes, I'm going to go find him. Yes, I love him. I love you both as well, but when you find the right person you need to be with them, you know? Mark, I am no good for you, it's clear as day. You need a girl who you can rely on, someone who won't treat you like shit, because that's what I did. Please forgive me, but I have to find him, someday maybe you will understand._

_Collins, I love you, I'll do whatever I can to be there for you, don't ever think that you have to go through anything alone. I'm here for you, always._

_Love,_

_Maureen. _

Maureen was living in a flat closer to where Roger's band typically performed and she regularly frequented the various clubs in search of the boys, but she could never seem to find them. To say the least, Maureen was frustrated. She was working at a clothing store for the time being so she could pay her own rent and she was constantly on the look out for any sign of Roger.

_Beyond the cheap colored lights_

Roger jolted awake covered in sweat. Again. He loved the feeling of being high, but as for the feeling of sobering up, not so much. It was like every night he'd get a fever and be so delirious that nothing mattered then every morning the fever would break and he'd feel like shit. Again.

He'd basically abandoned his band in lieu of this "drug problem." He didn't have a fucking drug problem. The world needed to leave him alone. The only contact he'd really had in recent days had been with the drug dealer. "This is all I need right now." He grinned to himself as he heated it up, anticipating, as always, his nightly fever.

_And there's no need to endure anymore_

"He's really not doing well," Sully informed Maureen, sipping his whiskey.

"Well, what happened?" Maureen leaned towards him.

"He started shooting up every now and then…which, I mean, most have us have done. But then he really got into it and started missing shows and well…" He sighed heavily.

"Well?" Maureen asked impatiently.

"We gave him an ultimatum: quit the drugs or quit the band."

Maureen gasped, "He didn't…"

"He did. Chose the drugs."

"Jesus Christ." Maureen buried her face in her hands.

Sully reached over and patted her head lightly, "It may not be too late…you always had a way with him, I suppose."

"Where is he now?"

15 minutes later, Maureen was knocking frantically on a beaten down door. She heard shuffling footsteps and then there was Roger, red eyed, skinny and dazed. Maureen leaned back and slapped him across the face with all her might.

It showed how gone Roger was when he actually stumbled sideways, "What the fuck, Maureen? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What the fuck are you doing to yourself?" Maureen shot back, shoving past him into the dingy room, "You're killing yourself!"

"Actually, I feel pretty damn good. At least I did until you showed up."

Maureen looked back at him then whirled around and began gathering up the needles and tossing them out the window.

"Maureen, you crazy bitch!" He staggered after her.

"YOU. ARE. KILLING. YOURSELF." She shrieked, grabbing the baggies of heroin and running to the bathroom to flush them down the toilet.

"Stop!" Roger shouted, grabbing her by the arm. Maureen slammed her knee into his groin and whilst he was doubled over, she grabbed the boiling pot and poured its contents down the drain.

"I won't let you do this to yourself."

Roger was on her knees in front of him, "_You_ did this to me." He said softly.

"No, I didn't. You did this to yourself. But I'm not going to let it go on any longer."

"Who says I even want you around?"

Maureen knelt down in front of him, "I do. And I'm the Princess and you will do what I say." She thought she saw a flicker of a smile on his face, but then he stood up.

"Doesn't change a thing."

"No, Roger, it changes everything." Maureen corrected him, "Do you know there are people who are dying from aids, just like Collins will be, because of this shit?"

Roger flinched at the mention of Collins.

"Is that what this is going to take? A wake up call?" Maureen paced in front of him for a second then went into his room and grabbed a clean shirt, "Put this on. Now."

For whatever reason, Roger obeyed.

"Let's go." She took his hand and allowed her to lead him into the night.

_One song to leave behind…_

"Now do you see what I mean?" Maureen asked quietly, gesturing through the glass. She watched Roger carefully as he took in the sights of a young man in the final stages of his life. His body was covered in cysts and he was hooked up to a myriad of beeping machines. She lightly took his arm and led him further down the hall so he could see similar situations with various people.

"What does this have to do with me?" He muttered, turning away.

"Remember what you guys told me ages ago? This disease can also be spread through needles! Don't you see the risks you are putting yourself at? I mean, your _best friend_ has HIV and he didn't do anything to deserve it. And then there's you, throwing your life away like some selfish asshole."

Roger had tears in his eyes as he looked at Maureen, "It's not something I can just stop, Maureen."

"You can try." Maureen begged with her eyes, stepping closer to him, "Just think of Collins and…me. Please."

Roger pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead as her tears began to fall, "I'll try, but no promises."

"There's no such thing as a promise." She whispered back, allowing herself to relax against him like nothing had changed at all.

**There shall be an epilogue, don't worry. I'm sorry for rushing this, but things are getting crazy and I'm getting weary with the drama involved with this story. So thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy this and the last installment. **


	18. Chapter 18

**Epilogue**

It had taken a lot of time and effort on both Maureen and Collins' part, but Roger had eventually been convinced to check himself into rehab. He was chagrined not only for abusing his friends, but also for the fact that Maureen had had to pay for it (I will get you clean if it kills me, damnit!). Not that everything ended completely happily; Maureen and Roger still fought, naturally, but at least they had finally admitted to each other that they were in love and needed to be together. Collins was still sick, though he remained as upbeat as an HIV positive person could be. As for Mark…well things had worked out pretty well for him in the end.

According to Collins, Mark had been riding his bike down a semi-busy street, running late for the job he was working. Out of the blue, a "sex red head with a perky ass" (Collins' description) threw open her car door and quite literally, swept Mark off his feet. He and Erin had developed quite the love nest, filled with lots of cameras and Jewish humor (Collins doesn't think Erin's actually Jewish, but really, Mark probably doesn't care anyway).

Mark hadn't spoken to Roger and Maureen since Roger got out of rehab. Maureen had been ecstatic that he had been there for his friend, but apparently it was only a temporary truce. However, Maureen didn't feel guilty because she'd been right all along. She'd told Mark he'd find someone better for him, and lo and behold, he had!

Maureen had finally broken down to Roger about her family's wealth so that he would stop harassing her about how much money she was "throwing away" on him. She'd given up pretending to be someone she wasn't; she realized that if she had the money, she should use it which is why she and Roger now lived in a relatively decent apartment in a neighborhood that wasn't quite as grungy. Not that she'd ever sell out. No way. Her new job that she was experimenting with was being a protestor. Her first cause?

Drugs and the Devil (read: the dealer).

_No day but today…_

**Thank you for reading! I'm sorry if it seems rushed, but I think the story had told itself through already. So thank you for reading! And thanks to the few who reviewed my story, I appreciate it. **


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